


Natural Attractions

by orphicthoughts



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: ANDREW WITH GLASSES, Adorable, Andrew cannot bake but he wants to, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gay Panic, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Love Wins, M/M, Neil does pilates, Neil loves musicals, Neil wears makeup and has some sense of fashion thanks to Allison, Neil with a nose piercing, Other, Sassy Neil, Sexual Content, barista Neil, is there tattoos? there might be, literally they just need to get married, painted nails, the whole gang - Freeform, they're both confused and confusing, this fic exposes my guilty pleasures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27430483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphicthoughts/pseuds/orphicthoughts
Summary: Andrew is content with passing through college and having minimal interaction with other human beings, and he was succeeding. That is until his brother has him go out of his way to stop by the library, where he meets the smart-mouthed, redheaded, attractive barista named Neil who seems to be able to handle Andrew's passive-aggressive quips and fires his own right back. It's fine. Totally fine.But when this said Neil keeps appearing seemingly everywhere Andrew turns, when he realizes they seem to hang around the same people yet have somehow never met, when Neil bakes him dessert and makes him sugary drinks and asks him to paint his nails and wears eyeliner with lip gloss, Andrew realizes that, no, this is not fine.*****literally just the fluff content I need right now
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Katelyn/Aaron Minyard, Kevin Day/Thea Muldani, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 53
Kudos: 438





	1. Chapter 1

Andrew has the perfect night scheduled. He’s eating Aaron’s leftovers—it’s from one of the local Indian restaurants close to campus, _Stone Hearth Cafe_ or something. Aaron had asked him if he wanted to go last night, but Andrew declined, preferring to _not_ spend his night with his brother and his cheerleading girlfriend while they sappily flirt with one another in front of Andrew. Not again. But the food is good. He’ll have to go there sometime. 

He currently is sitting on the couch, swaddled in a knitted blanket, spooning the leftover tikka masala into his mouth. His white fluff ball of a cat, Duchess, is sitting behind him on the back of the couch, swiping at the spoon each time Andrew brings it to his mouth. She meows at him, partly due to curiosity and partly in irritation, especially when he denies her the food. 

“You won’t like it,” he tells her. “It’s too spicy for you.”

Duchess meows again and Andrew’s sure she’s cursing at him in her own cat language. Andrew’s had her for about three years now. He found her as a kitten that had been dumped during his senior year of high school. He kept telling himself he was just keeping her around for a bit before finding her a home elsewhere, but she ended up never leaving. Aaron was indifferent; Nicky was ecstatic. His cousin offered some bizarre names, but the suggestion given by Erik’s niece ended up winning. She was big into the _Aristocrats_ and Andrew was lacking any creativity. So, Duchess it was. Before he’d found the cat, Bee had also mentioned to him during one of their sessions that having a pet companion could really help Andrew. So, a few months after he’d gotten Duchess, she was registered as an ESA. She’s a needy cat. She always wants to sleep or play. She’s getting over her kitten phase, but she’ll still occasionally pounce on Andrew or Aaron’s feet if they’re walking by. And her white hair gets everywhere, including all over Andrew’s clothing. And she’s a food theft to top it all off. 

Duchess meows at him again, looking intently at the food he holds in front of him. He shushes her, settling deeper into the couch and tightening the blanket around him. Tonight is going to be nice and relaxing. The juvenile justice class he TAs for just started a new unit, so none of the students have any questions as of yet, which gives him some time to step away from the class and focus on his own course load. It’s Thursday night, nearly the weekend, so he doesn’t have much to do in regards to his own classes. So, he’s fucking leisuring. 

The triple chocolate chip brownies are in the oven. He has Netflix pulled up on the TV and is just about to start season three of _The Great British Baking Show_. Andrew is a pretty decent chef but baking has never been something he’s excelled at. To be honest, he barely passes at it. The box brownie mix currently in the oven, despite the supposed simplicity of it, is a big step—and _risk_ —for Andrew. The last time he attempted to bake, the cake ended up tasting like cardboard, but that was an improvement from the previous attempt in which the dessert actually exploded in the oven. Aaron forbid him from using the oven for two weeks, which Andrew completely disregarded. 

Andrew supposes he could fit in an episode before the brownies we ready. He is just about to click on the play button when his phone buzzes from somewhere underneath the blankets. He lets out a short huff and balances the takeout container in one hand while he sifts under his blankets with the other. Duchess tries to swat at the food, but he moves it further away. When he finally pulls his phone, he sees that he has a text from Aaron. 

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:49 PM**  
_I need you to bring me my org chem lab manual_

**Andrew**  
**Sent 10:49 PM**  
_why_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:50 PM**  
_Cuz I need them Andrew. My exam is tomorrow morning. It’s important_

**Andrew**  
**Sent 10:50 PM**  
_If it’s so important then why did you leave your notes at our dorm_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:50 PM**  
_Christ Andrew I didn’t mean to. I was in a rush after class and thought I had the lab manual but I don’t…so I need you to bring it to me_

Andrew let out a long-suffering sigh into the dark room and sags back against the couch. His brownies have twenty more minutes in the oven and _The Great British Baking Show_ is calling his name. He hadn’t felt bad about stealing Aaron’s leftover in the first place, but now he fully believes his twin deserves this thievery. 

**Andrew**  
**Sent 10:51 PM**  
_Why can’t you just come back to the dorm to get it? I’m busy_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:51 PM**  
_Andrew_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:51 PM**  
_Come on_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:51 PM**  
_I don’t have the car and Im not going to make Katelyn drive me back_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:51 PM**  
_It’s like 40 minutes to drive to the dorm and back to the library and I’m already on a time crunch_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:51 PM**  
_What can you be doing at 11pm on a Thursday night_

**Andrew**  
**Sent 10:51 PM**  
_Leisuring_

And eating your leftovers. And baking triple chocolate chip brownies that are going to be fucking delicious. And binge-watching season three of _The Great British Baking Show_.

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:51 PM**  
_Andrew_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:52 PM**  
_Ill buy you that one drink you like from the coffee shop here if you come bring my notes_

Andrew pauses, considering the text. He rarely went to the library, preferring to study within the privacy of his own room, but the few times he has set foot in the library, he’s gotten a drink from the coffee shop that sits at the front of the building. It has some cheesy name he’s never bothered remembering, but the drink, the double mocha fudge slide—that’s memorable. 

That drink _would_ go well with the triple chocolate chip brownies. Duchess meows once again from over his shoulder and Andrew nods. 

“You’re right.”

**Andrew**  
**Sent 10:53 PM**  
_Fine_

**Andrew**  
**Sent 10:53 PM**  
_But I won’t be able to leave for another 20 minutes_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:53 PM**  
_Thanks_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:53 PM**  
_My lab manual is blue and it should be on my desk under the stack of papers_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:54 PM**  
_Wait why?_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:54 PM**  
_Are you baking something again?_

**The other one**  
**Sent 10:54 PM**  
_Andrew?_

Andrew is walking out of the dorm thirty minutes later just to spite Aaron. The brownies didn’t look too bad when he took them out of the oven. They’re cooling now on top of the stove. Andrew locked Duchess up in his room to make sure she didn’t decide to investigate the smell and walk all over the dessert—because she has before.

**The other one**  
**Sent 11:22 PM**  
_Have you left yet_

**Andrew**  
**Sent 11:22 PM**  
_Yeah I’ll be there in 10_

Andrew shrugs on his winter coat. It’s only the end of October, but a cool front has blown into the area recently, making it seem like they’re in the dead of winter. He’s just about to head out the door, but then he realizes he forgot his glasses. He quickly goes back up the stairs and grabs his frames from his nightstand, being careful to make sure Duchess doesn’t escape. He doesn’t really wear his glasses in the dorm; he’s extremely near sided, but can navigate and see just fine in the small confines of their dorm. When driving or on campus, however, he wears his glasses all the time. 

By the time Andrew pulls up to the library, it’s nearly midnight. He sends a quick text to Aaron asking where he’s sitting. Aaron shoots back a reply as Andrew is walking into the library. He finds Aaron and the cheerleader at a table on the second floor. Despite it being nearly midnight, the library isn’t nearly as empty as one would expect. Andrew drops the lab manual down on the table and stands there expectantly. 

“Took you a little long don’t you think?” Aaron says in lieu of a hello.

“You’re welcome,” Andrew responds flatly.

“Hi, Andrew,” Katelyn chips in, smiling. Andrew has to give her an A for effort. He sees Aaron’s sharp look out of the corner of his eye, so Andrew decides to be civil. 

“Hi.” He then turns back to Aaron, raising an eyebrow. His twin rolls his eyes in response but pulls out his student ID.

“Get Katelyn and me something, too,” Aaron says as he hands it over. 

Andrew gives him a flat glance. “What do I look like? First I bring you your textbook and now your coffee?”

“Andrew, come on. It’s nearly midnight and Katelyn and I are going to be here for a few more hours. Get us some coffee.”

“Looks like someone needs better time management.”

“Yeah, well sorry not everyone has an eidetic memory or an easy major,” Aaron snarks back. 

Andrew’s already walking away, but he makes sure to flip his twin off over his shoulder. Aaron tries to call him back; Andrew ignores him. He gets a text a moment late. 

**The other one**  
**Sent 11:54 PM**  
_You didn’t wait for our coffee orders_

Before his twin could send a follow-up text, Andrew responded. 

**Andrew**  
**Sent 11:55 PM**  
_I’ve got it_

Andrew makes his way to the front of the library where the coffee shop sits. He spots the cheesy name and it’s even worse than he thought. The _Grind House_? _Really_? 

No one else is in line, so Andrew walks straight up to the register. The guy standing behind the register is bent over, sifting through something underneath the counter. He stays crouched down, ignoring Andrew for long enough that it was considered rude. Right when Andrew’s about to knock his knuckles against the counter to get this guy’s attention, the man pops up and looks at Andrew. 

The rude retort that was halfway out of Andrew’s mouth fizzles away at his lips. The man in front of him looks like something out of a wet fucking dream. He’s currently leaning slightly against the counter, putting him and Andrew on eye level, but Andrew would guess if the guy were to stand up straight, he would only be a few inches taller. The abundance of red curls that sit atop his head is pushed back by a thick black headband that rests partly on his forehead. His skin is an olive bronze color that accentuates his icy, blue eyes. That can’t be real. Andrew has never seen eyes so vibrant. And they’re only more pronounced by the smudged kohl that lines them. He has a nose piercing. It’s just a simple, thin, silver ring; it shouldn’t be as hot as Andrew thinks it is. The guy’s full lips curve up into a smile, emphasizing his high cheekbones. On one side of his face, there are a few vertical scars that are a shade or two lighter than his natural skin color; if anything, that makes him even more attractive. He opens his mouth to blow a large pink bubble before popping it with his teeth. He chews the wad of gum a bit before speaking, a smile still painting across his face. 

“Hi, sorry, but we’re closed.” He points to the clock behind him that reads exactly 12:00 AM.

Andrew drags his gaze from the clock back down to the redhead. “You’re not serious?”

The worker— _Neil_ his name tag read—shrugs. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “Better luck next time.”

If Andrew was a different man, he might walk away or stand there completely at a loss for what he might say in response. Instead, he leans forward against the counter, makes it clear he isn’t leaving. Neil raises his eyebrow. 

“Doesn’t the customer come first? You ignored me until it was closing time. Not very service-oriented if you ask me.”

“I’m actually not on the job right now,” Neil says, grin, and points again at the clock over his shoulder, which now reads 12:01 AM. “I got off about a minute ago.”

“I know,” Andrew deadpans. “I was here.”

“So you were,” Neil muses, eyes trailing down Andrew and back up to meet his eyes. Andrew narrows his eyes and Neil’s smirk widens.

“What?” 

“Nothing. I’m just wondering what you’re still doing here.”

“I’m waiting to order my drinks, but the service here really sucks.”

“Hmm, seems like something you should mention to the manager, you know, when we’re open.”

Andrew opens his mouth to retort, something odd stirring in his gut, but right then, another guy comes out from the storage room situated in the back of the coffee shop. The newcomer looks surprised when he sees Andrew but quickly puts on a smile. 

“Hello,” the new guy says. He very much gives Andrew surfer vibes with his bronze skin and blond hair. “How can we help you?”

Andrew notices Neil straighten up. He can’t help but shoot the redhead a little smirk before glancing back towards the newcomer. His name tag says his name is Jeremy.

“I’m waiting to order my drinks,” Andrew says. He stares Neil down, not feeling at all bad for tossing him under the bus. “You should get better service.”

Jeremy scrambles forward, looking embarrassed on Neil’s behalf. He does shoot Neil a look as he passes and steps up to the register. Neil, on the other hand, steps back looking unbothered. His mouth is still curved up and his eyes flit to Andrew’s face once more before he spins around and goes to man the espresso machine. 

Andrew lists off their orders and hands over Aaron’s student ID. Afterward, Jeremy disappears someone in the back. Andrew and Neil are once again left alone. The latter is busy making the drinks, his red curls fall over his headband to cover part of his face. Andrew slides over to the pick-up counter, watching the redhead work. He tells himself it’s to make sure Neil doesn’t spit in his drinks more than anything else, but he can do that and appreciate a pretty boy, even one that has a bad attitude. That really shouldn’t be a turn-on for Andrew—smart mouths—but he finds himself leaning forward again. 

“Seems like the shop is still open.”

“Yeah, my bad. I thought it was Friday. We close earlier on weekend nights.”

“Mmhm. I’m sure,” Andrew says. He watches Neil craft the drinks at a speed that clearly speaks he knows what he’s doing. “I don’t know if I should be trusting you to make the drinks.”

“Why’s that?” Neil asks without looking up. “You think I’m going to spit in your drink or something?”

The corner of Andrew’s mouth nearly quirks up. “More like try to poison me.”

“You’re doing that to yourself by _willingly_ consuming this drink. Do you know how much sugar is in this?”

Andrew sees Neil’s nose scrunch up in distaste and the corners of his eyes crinkle and Andrew needs to take a step back because _what the hell is he doing?_

“I’m assuming you’re going to tell me,” Andrew responds dryly. 

“Like, enough to kill you, probably.”

Eloquent. 

“How do I know it’s the sugar acting and not something else you slipped in there?” Andrew shoots back. 

Neil smirks, still looking down at his moving hands. “You’ll have to take my word for it.”

“I don’t know. You’ve fed me wrongful information before.”

Neil’s grin widens until Andrew can see his teeth and he feels a strange sense of satisfaction settle in his chest. Neil finishes up Andrew’s drink and he tops it off with whipped cream before popping the lid on and sliding it across the counter towards the blond. When he looks up, Andrew is once again struck with the vibrancy of his eyes. 

“You willing to take the risk?”

Andrew knows he’s talking about the drink, but his mind jumps ahead and considers this question in a different circumstance, one that he’d rather not think about in the middle of the library.

To shut up both his thoughts and Neil, Andrew scoops up the drink and takes a generous sip. It’s good. Too sweet for the average person’s palette, but almost perfect for Andrew’s. Almost.

What he says to Neil, who’s clearly waiting for his response, is, “Passable.”

Neil scoffs. “Only because your drink choice is deplorable. There’s no way to make that good.”

Andrew took another sip before setting it back down on the counter. “You didn’t put enough sugar in it.”

Neil looks at the drink and then back to Andrew. His jaw is slack and Andrew thinks he can see the little pink wad of gum inside his mouth. “You’re kidding.”

“No. I want more sugar.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I’m not putting even _more_ of that poison in there.”

“So, you admit it?”

“You have no witness.”

“I thought the customer was already right.”

“That is _definitely_ not true, especially not with you.”

“Wow, excellent customer service. Ten out of ten.”

“Thanks, I actually get that a lot. Not necessarily in the same context but,” Neil vaguely flaps his hand, “technicalities.”

Andrew stares at Neil. Neil stares back. The redhead’s smirk comes back and he raises a goddamn _perfect_ eyebrow. Jeremy coming back around the corner from the back is what makes Andrew realize he’s been staring for too long, so he pushes the drink even closer. 

“Sugar,” he says, his voice coming out deeper than before. Thankfully, Neil doesn’t put up a fight—likely because Jeremy is still within view. Neil does, however, roll his eyes as he snags the drinks and turns to add more sugar as requested. 

While he’s currently turned the other direction, Andrew uses that time to get a fucking grip on himself because this guy is _not_ flirting with him. He just has a smart mouth and likes to be contradictory. That’s all. 

Neil sets the drink back down in front of Andrew and nods towards it, as if saying _‘go ahead.’_ Andrew does. It tastes better. The extra sugar really hit the spot. Neil seems to be waiting for a compliment or something, so Andrew just shrugs. 

“Glad I could meet your standards.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

Neil rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but turns back to make the other two drinks. He plops down Aaron’s and Katelyn’s drink on the counter, both of which he says are “much more reasonable” and “not a health hazard that’s likely to cause immediate diabetes.” He mumbles these words under his breath, likely in an attempt to keep them away from Jeremy’s ears. Andrew hears all of it, although he assumes that was intentional. 

“Enjoy,” Neil says, his voice peppy but his expression biting. Andrew places the drinks in a tray, ignoring Neil completely. 

Jeremy only notices the former. He looks over and smiles. “Thank you! Come again.”

“Or not,” Neil huffs under his breath. He turns away before Andrew has the chance to respond. Still, Andrew doesn’t pass up an opportunity. No matter how narrow. 

“Thanks for making the drinks, especially right before closing,” he says slowly, tauntingly, only loud enough for Neil to hear. He’s doesn’t wait for the redhead to take the bait before adding on, “Better luck next time” and walking away. 

When he gets back to the table, Aaron scowls at him and asks what took him so long. Katelyn swats Aaron and thanks Andrew for both of them. He really doesn’t care. Not about that and not about the pretty, smart-mouthed redhead he learned works at the library coffee shop. Nope. All he cares about is beginning season three of _The Great British Baking Show_ and consuming this drink alongside the brownies.

*****

Andrew isn’t friends with Kevin. He tolerates Kevin and Kevin tolerates him, which is apparently enough for Kevin to justify his habit of constantly showing up at Andrew’s dorm unannounced, which pisses off Andrew to no end. He likes his privacy and uninterrupted peace. Yet, Kevin seems to have this annoying ability in which any and all hostile actions and words don’t affect him in the long-run. He takes the hit and yet still comes back, albeit it might take a few days for him to muster up the courage to return, but he soon arrives once again at Andrew’s dorm, unannounced. It’s exhausting. Is mutual acquaintanceship supposed to be this exhausting? Andrew doesn’t quite think it’s worth it. 

So, when Kevin’s texts Andrew later that day telling him to come over, the blond nearly groans aloud. He had ignored Kevin’s calls earlier in the day, hoping he would get the hint and stop contacting him. At this point, Andrew doesn’t know if Kevin’s just persistent or dense when it comes to Andrew’s less-than-friendly responses, or rather, the lack thereof. 

**No one important**  
**Sent 4:11 PM**  
_Come over_

**No one important**  
**Sent 4:11 PM**  
_I need help_

**Andrew**  
**Sent 4:12 PM**  
_Sounds like a personal problem_

**No one important**  
**Sent 4:12 PM**  
_If you come over I’ll pay for your dinner_

**No one important**  
**Sent 4:15 PM**  
_I have dessert_

Andrew stares at his phone with passive interest. Kevin Day, health nut extraordinaire, has dessert. 

**Andrew**  
**Sent 4:16 PM**  
_You can’t have dessert and be Kevin Day. Pick one_

**No one important**  
**Sent 4:15 PM**  
_I’m not Kevin Day_

**No one important**  
**Sent 4:16 PM**  
_I have dessert_

**No one important**  
**Sent 4:16 PM**  
_Come over_

Andrew actually does groan aloud this time. He stares at the pile of papers he has left to grade before reluctantly shuffling them all together and placing them back in his bag. He begins to head out of the library. Aaron and his girlfriend are currently at the dorm, which is why Andrew chose to relocate to the library to get some work done. And if he maybe glanced at the coffee shop on his way in and out, well, that’s no one’s business but his own. 

Kevin, the asshole, lives alone in his nice one-bedroom apartment generously paid for by his parents. It’s only about five minutes away from campus, but Andrew purposely takes the long route. When he knocks on the apartment door, he hears scrambling on the other side. A moment later, the door swings open and Kevin Day stands in the doorway in all his glory, clad in only a pair of boxer briefs. 

“Gross,” Andrew says, pushing past him. “No one wants to see that.”

“I need your help in deciding what I should wear.”

Andrew turns back to face Kevin, an eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was being called to a girls’ night. I can go back and get my nail polish if you want.”

Kevin, though, has had years to learn how to put up with Andrew’s biting comments, and merely rolls his eyes. 

“I’m supposed to pick Thea up for a date in less than an hour. I’m meeting her parents, Andrew. I’ve never met her parents. They live in, like, a huge house. They have their own landscaper. A _landscaper_. You need to help me.”

Andrew stares at Kevin, completely uninterested. “In what world do I qualify as someone you would call for fashion advice?”

“Jean and Jeremy are busy. My parents didn’t answer the phone when I called,” Kevin said as a means of explanation. 

Andrew continues to stare at him, unperturbed. “How about your girlfriend?”

“I can’t ask Thea,” Kevin says, aghast at the suggestion. 

Andrew rolls his eyes. He drops his bag by the door and leaves Kevin standing in the entrance. But when he steps foot in the conjoined kitchen and living room, he stops short. 

Sitting on the love seat in Kevin’s living room is fucking redhead barista Neil from the library. His legs are slung over the arm of the couch and he’s laying flat back against the cushions. Today he isn’t wearing a headband so his curls splay out wildly across the fabric. He’s not wearing an apron as he was when Andrew first saw him, so his outfit is on full display. He’s wearing fucking _overalls_. They’re light-washed denim and one of the straps at the top is unfastened, causing the bib to drape on one side, showing more of the faded graphic tee that lays under it. His feet are bare and swinging back and forth—Andrew should have noticed the extra pair of shoes in the doorway. The same nose piercing, scarred high cheekbones, and sharp blue eyes greet Andrew as Neil lifts his head up and spots him. 

A tease of a smile spreads across Neil’s face and he points a finger at Andrew. “Aaron.”

“What?” Kevin says, coming pausing in his mad dash around the apartment. “No, that’s Andrew.” 

Kevin continues towards his bedroom before stopping once again and turning back to Neil “Wait? You know Aaron?”

“Apparently not,” Neil says, still smiling and still staring at Andrew. 

“You know Kevin,” Andrew states.

“Unfortunately so,” Neil sighs. 

Kevin shoots Neil a sharp look and Neil blinks innocently back. “Then…you know Andrew?”

“I wouldn’t say I _know_ Andrew,” Neil drawls. 

Kevin narrows his eyes at Neil and then at Andrew. “Wait, so did you meet Andrew or Aaron?”

“Aaron,” both Neil and Andrew say at the same time. Andrew scowls and Neil’s grin widens. 

Kevin grumbles, looking between the two again before giving up and stomping off towards his bedroom, leaving Neil and Andrew alone together. Of fucking course Kevin knew Neil and Neil knew Kevin. The universe truly is plotting against Andrew. Or maybe working in his favor. It’s too early to tell. 

“So you have a twin?”

Andrew grunts, meaning yes. 

“And you used your twin’s student ID. That’s still identity theft, right? I don’t know. Maybe not. However, with me being the diligent worker that I am, I don’t think I can let that slide.”

Andrew slides his gaze back over to Neil, who is now propped up on his elbows, grinning devilishly that Andrew. The number of inappropriate scenarios that flash through his head given the image in front of him is…annoying, concerning, kinda hot. Yes. To all three. 

“You have no witness,” Andrew shots back. Neil recognizes the words and he laughs, collapsing back against the cushions. 

“The system records everything. I could pull it up. You know, theoretically.”

“That seems like a lot of work for someone so eager to close up shop early.”

“I told you I thought it was Friday.”

“Of course.”

“Plus this was all part of my long-term plan. I let you off easy with the drink because I knew I would catch you later on the identity theft.”

Andrew raises his eyebrow. “How is it identity theft? I used my own ID.”

“No, you used your twin’s. You’re Andrew.”

“No, I’m Aaron. That’s what my ID card said.”

“Kevin just called you Andrew!” Neil exclaims. 

“He’s never been able to tell us apart.”

Right then Kevin comes back into the room, dressed in dark gray slacks and a light blue button-up. 

“Well?” He asks them. 

Andrew says silent, but Neil sits up fully and accesses Kevin. “Hmm, no. The blue clashes with your eyes and you look like you have something stuck up your ass.”

Kevin rolls his eyes at Neil’s answer and turns toward the blond. “Andrew?”

“Where’s the dessert?” Andrew responds.

Kevin waves his hand in Neil’s direction and Andrew nearly chokes at the insinuation. But before his brain can go any further down _that_ path, Kevin clarifies: “Neil will make it.”

Neil was looking down, typing something away at his phone. When he hears Kevin’s words, however, his head snaps up. “Um, what? Kevin.”

“Do you think it’ll be better if I wear a green shirt instead?” Kevin asks no one in particular, looking at himself in the hall mirror. 

“ _No_ ,” Neil says pointedly. “Kevin, what the fuck?”

“What? You like to bake and Andrew likes desserts.” Kevin slaps his hands together vaguely, only once, as if conjoining the two concepts. He disappears off into his room again.

Neil looks back over at Andrew, his jaw slack, but Andrew is the first to speak. “I’m not eating anything you make.”

Neil, however, seems to take that as a challenge. He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side. “Yeah? Well, you already drank something I made, so I can’t see how this is much different.”

“I actually threw the drink away once I left the library,” Andrew lies.

Neil laughs again. “Liar.”

Andrew shrugs. Neil continues to look at him from under his lashes for a moment. Andrews notes that they’re ridiculously long and full. Kevin rummaging through his closest can be heard from down the hall.

“If I bake something for you, what will you give me in return?”

Andrew blinks back, pushing down the interest that just keeps rising. “Nothing.”

And Neil’s face lights up. “Great,” he says, pushing himself up from the couch. “Exactly what I want. Let’s see what Kevin Day has in his kitchen.”

When Neil goes into the kitchen to search through Kevin’s pantry, Andrew stays in the living room, taking a moment to process everything. _What_ the fuck and _who_ the fuck is this Neil guy? He’s…weird, but a good weird. A weird Andrew likes not only because he’s cute but because he’s also able to keep up with Andrew’s quips. Andrew might dare to say Neil _enjoys_ it with the constant smirk he seems to have on his face all the time. And if he wants to be even more daring, he’ll admit that Neil is flirting with him. Andrew is definitely intrigued by the mouthy redhead, and if Neil’s showing interest in him, well then fuck it. He’s game. 

“Kevin Day you have fucking _nothing_ to work with in here!” Neil shouts from the kitchen. 

Andrew eventually wanders in to find the redhead bent over and sifting through a bottom cabinet. Andrew unapologetically takes this moment to appreciate the view he has of Neil’s rather fine ass. His attention is, regrettably, pulled away when his phone buzzes, indicating he’s received a text. 

**The other one**  
**Sent 4:52 PM**  
_Katelyn and I are going out_

**The other one**  
**Sent 4:52 PM**  
_Do NOT eat my leftovers_

“Okay, we’re going to make a mug cake,” Neil announces, placing a coffee mug down on the counter in front of Andrew. 

The blond pulls his gaze away from his phone. “A mug cake?”

“Yeah. Like a cake in a mug. That’s all we really can do. Here.”

Neil moves over to the fridge and pulls out a carton of eggs. Andrew watches silently as Neil piles all the ingredients together on the counter. Eggs, honey, coconut oil, salt, and yogurt. Neil grimaces at the assortment. 

“This is what we’ve got to work with. I can’t believe Kevin doesn’t have a single ounce of chocolate in his house.” Neil pauses and then revises his words. “Actually, I can believe it. I just think it’s ridiculous.”

Andrew wordlessly walks over to where he dropped his bag by the door and unzips the front pocket. He pulls a Snicker out and waves it at Neil, who purses his lips and appraises the candy bar. The redhead shrugs. 

“That _should_ work.” Even as he says it he sounds unsure. He looks it too. “I mean, it’ll definitely provide some texture.”

“Very reassuring,” Andrew pipes in, plopping the candy bar down on the counter with all the other ingredients. “As of right now, you’re not doing very well. You haven’t even begun baking and I already had to give you a crutch.”

A laugh forces its way out of Neil’s mouth. “If anything I think I should automatically get some bonus points because I was coerced into doing this and am trying to make do with Kevin’s poor selection.”

As if summoned, Kevin steps into the room again. This time he’s wearing a polo shirt and khaki shorts. He looks at the two of them. 

“Well?”

Neil leans against the counter, resting his chin on his palm. “Ew. Are you trying to send the message ‘I’m in a frat’ to Thea’s parents? Because that’s what you’re giving off. Do not ever wear striped polos and khaki shorts together.”

“Jesus fuck. I thought Neil Josten was in my apartment, not Allison Reynolds,” Kevin grumbled as he walks out of the kitchen and back to his room. 

Neil flips Kevin off even though Kevin’s in the other room and can’t see. “The truth hurts Kevin.”

What the hell is happening? Allison Reynolds. There’s no mistake as to who Neil’s talking back. Andrew has had the misfortunate of meeting her. Renee’s girlfriend. Catty bitch with a huge bank account. It’s no surprise that Kevin knows Allison. But Neil? 

“You know Allison Reynolds?”

“Yeah,” Neil hums. 

Andrew stares at the redhead, still not quite convinced that he still isn't being duped. 

"What are you even doing here?" Andrew asks. 

"I was sexiled," Neil replies, waggling his eyebrows at Andrew. “Jeremy came over to visit Jean, so I stopped by to visit Kevin.” Neil pauses and his face twists up in distaste. "Not for the same reasons, obviously."

"Obviously," Andrew repeats. 

Neil goes back to making the mug cake. He unwraps the Snickers bar and places it in a bowl before putting that bowl in the microwave. “I’m going to dirty as many dishes as possible and leave them for Kevin to clean. He deserves it.”

And he does just that. Neil uses a different dish for each ingredient, despite the fact that he ends up just dumping it all in the mug at the end. Andrew sits down in a high-top chair at the kitchen bar and stares at the brown goo in the mug. 

“You didn’t even add any flour,” he says, not quite successful in hiding his doubt. 

“That’s because Kevin doesn’t have any.”

Andrew scrunches his nose up in distaste and Neil vaguely bats at his face from across the counter, his fingers missing by an inch or two. 

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. It wouldn’t even be that bad.” Neil looks back down at the chocolate mess in the mug and cocks his head again. “I think.”

“Once again, very reassuring.”

“But, like, for the convenience it already has a good rating, right? I mean, that didn’t even take five minutes to put together and it goes in the microwave for, like, a minute.” 

When Neil looks up at Andrew, the blond notices a smudge of chocolate on his nose right next to his piercing. And that’s when Andrew knows the universe truly is trying him. He certainly doesn’t reach out and wipe it off. And just to prove that he’s still an asshole and the universe isn’t making him soft by shoving barista Neil at him, Andrew doesn’t even tell the redhead he has chocolate on his nose.

“Sounds to me like you’re not that confident in your baking skills.”

Neil scoffs. “Excuse you.” A slow grin stretches across his face. “My baking skills are ten out of ten.”

Andrew rolls his eyes, not taking the bait. Neil pouts at him and Andrew nearly sneers back because who the hell does he think he is? But before he can, Neil turns around and pops the mug in the microwave. He watches it for the entire minute and Andrew watches Neil, who’s barefoot, red curls going wild, and wearing a light-wash denim pair of overalls in the middle of Kevin Day’s kitchen. 

When the microwave beeps, he immediately opens the door and reaches in to grab the mug. 

“Hey,” Andrew says, a sense of urgency under his tone. When Neil pauses, Andrew allows himself to relax. He stares at the redhead, utterly unimpressed. “Be careful. Don’t burn yourself, idiot.”

“Oops.” Neil locates and uses a pair of oven mitts and places the mug and a spoon in front of Andrew. He’ll admit—to himself, not to Neil—it looks better now than it did before. 

Neil leans on the counter, once again resting his chin on his palm. “Try it.”

Andrew cuts into the inflated brown lump and it does seem to be a cake-like consistency. When he scoops it into his mouth, it’s pretty good. Not as favorable or sweet as he’d prefer, but not horrible. 

“Passable.”

Neil slaps his palm down on the counter and pulls back. “That’s what you said about the drink!”

Andrew shrugs but keeps his eyes on the redhead, awaiting his reaction to the next words coming out of Andrew’s mouth. “It’s not my fault you constantly produce an average performance.”

Neil doesn’t disappoint. He freezes and stares Andrew down, eyes slightly narrowed as he tries to get a read on the blond. Andrew stares back, expression impassive, eyes half-lidded, leaving Neil to find what he wants to find in Andrew’s words and body language. The redhead’s gaze flits down briefly before coming back up to meet Andrew’s. He then leans forward, nearly draping himself over the counter. Andrew’s eyes are drawn to the way Neil’s collarbone shifts—the redhead’s too-large shirt practically framing it. Andrew sees the briefest beginnings of scars there, as well. 

“My performance is better than average, thank you very much,” Neil says, his voice low to match Andrew’s earlier. Neil leans further across the counter and Andrew sits still, letting the redhead come to him. “I could—“

“Guys, do you think I should wear a suit?”

Andrew snaps his head to the side to see Kevin enter in a full-on suit. He finishes tying the tie and looks up. His brows lower and he brings his hand up to motion vaguely at his face. 

"Neil you have chocolate on your nose," Kevin says. 

Neil is quick to wipe at his nose, shooting Andrew a slightly accusatory look. Andrew stares back unapologetically, almost challengingly. 

“No, Kevin," Neil says. Although his response isn’t as sharp and biting as before. "Just wear the first outfit. That’ll be fine.”

Kevin throws his hand up in exasperation. “Neil!”

“I could make you a better mug cake if I had the proper ingredients,” Neil says, turning back to Andrew. His voice is lower once again, marking the conversation as something private between him and Andrew. Kevin, the nosy asshole, still hears. 

“You guys!? Come on, I have to leave soon.”

Andrew ignores Kevin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Neil says, smiling

“Prove it, then,” Andrew hears himself say. He feels like he’s watching this scene from outside his body, but the tight sensation in his chest he very much feels. “I have some baking ingredients at my dorm.”

“Neil? Andrew?” When neither of them answers, Kevin just huffs and stomps out of the room. 

Neil raises an eyebrow, but there’s a particular gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “Are you telling the truth or is this just a ploy to get me into your place?”

“You caught me,” Andrew responds dryly, despite his wildly pounding heart. “My plan was to get you somewhere with no witnesses.”

Neil wets his lips. “Yeah? And then do what?”

Andrew stares at Neil, fully understanding what Neil is insinuating. Neil stares back, fully understanding that Andrew understands what he is insinuating. Well, shit. Looks like this is happening. 

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Andrew says, slowly and measured. His eyes are move down Neil’s face when the redhead begins to absentmindedly chew on his bottom lip. “That is, of course, if you’re willing to take the risk.”

“Hmmmm.” Neil pretends to think about it only for a moment before bouncing back up to his full height. “I’ve always liked living on the edge. Let’s go.”

He spins around and heads for the door. Andrew’s heart is especially…lively at the moment. As are other parts of him, perhaps. He pushes himself to his feet and strides towards the door after Neil, realizing he literally just picked up a guy at Kevin’s place. 

“Bye Kevin!” Neil calls. “Good luck on your date!~”

"I expect you to Venmo me money to cover my dinner, Day!" Andrew yells back.

“Wait! You guys—“

They slam the door shut, effectively cutting off Kevin’s words, and head to the parking lot. 

“Nice car,” Neil says when he slides into the passenger seat. 

And if Andrew drives a little bit faster than normal to get back to his form, well, no one has to know. Neil certainly doesn’t comment on it. He just leans forward in his seat and flips through the radio stations until he finds a song he likes, which Andrew tolerates. 

When they pull up to his dorm and head up the stairs, Andrew hesitates. He knows Aaron’s out, but part of him still expects his twin to appear from around the corner and chase Neil away with his sneers and rude comments. Although, from what Andrew’s gathered so far, Neil doesn’t seem like one to easily scare. He’s dealt with Andrew for about two hours collectively by now, which is longer than others have lasted. And he’s still choosing to be here. He’s also quick to make himself comfortable once Andrew lets them into the dorm. 

“Do you have Netflix?” Neil asks. He collapses onto the couch and snags the knitted blanket Andrew typically uses. 

Andrew nods, not really know what else to say. 

“Nice. We should watch _Les Misérables_. Netflix used to have _The Phantom of the Opera_ , but they took it off, which was stupid if you ask me.”

“You want to watch Netflix?”

“Yeah.” Neil smirks and tightens the blankets around his shoulders. “Like Netflix ’n chill?”

Andrew hears scratches from down the hall, saving him from Neil seeing his flushed face. He goes to his room and opens the door. Immediately, a white blur shoots past his feet. She halts when she sees the newcomer. Neil does the same. He blinks, staring at the cat. Andrew realizes there’s a possibility Neil could be allergic. It’s unlikely, but the thought pops into his head nevertheless and he feels a sudden disappointment at the prospect of Neil leaving. 

However, Neil doesn’t back away or say he’s allergic. Instead, he rolls off the couch and crouches down so he’s more at Duchess’ level. He holds his hand out, palm up. 

“Hi there,” Neil says, his voice the softest Andrew has yet to hear. Something in Andrew’s chest unfurls at hearing that and the tension drains out of his form. He leans back against the wall, watching the interaction between Neil and Duchess. 

She regards him wearily, but he’s patient and coaxes her closer with soft, encouraging sounds. Eventually, she takes a step forward and another until she’s close enough to touch the tip of his fingers with her nose. She leans forward and sniffs tentatively before taking another step closer. Neil gently strokes the top of her head twice before she darts off, disappearing back into Andrew’s room. 

“She’s shy around strangers,” Andrew explains. “She’ll venture back out in a bit.”

“I didn’t think you could have animals in the dorms,” Neil says, moving back up to the couch. 

Andrew shrugs, pauses, then says, “She’s an ESA.”

He’s never necessarily shied away from telling people that. He’s certainly not embarrassed about it. His reservations more so stem from the fact that in sharing that piece of information, he’s also sharing a piece of his past. He’s peeling the band-aid off and letting the old wound bleed. Some days it’s harder than others to talk or think about. What he says aloud is only an inkling of the whole story, but people will make up a whole story if you don’t provide them with an explanation. Andrew’s been on the receiving end of those instances a few times. Bee’s definitely helped him deal with the fallout, but it’s all enough to make him a bit hesitant when bringing it up. 

Neil just nods and huddles up against the corner of the couch. “So, are we watching Netflix in here or in your room?”

Andrew raises his eyebrows, wondering why he bothered to bring the redhead back. “I’ll watch it in my room. You stay out here,” Andrews says before disappearing into his bedroom. 

He hears Neil laugh and call his name from the other room. Andrew waits a good minute, scratches Duchess’ head, before heading back out to the living room with his laptop. Neil has slumped even lower and deeper into the couch. The blanket is pulled up to his chin and he blinks up at Andrew, a slight pout on his lips. 

“You look like you melted into the cushions.”

“I feel like it,” Neil groans. “I worked until one in the morning last night and then woke up at five to go to my pilates class. I’m so tired.”

“I didn’t invite you over to sleep.”

That seems to liven Neil you. Andrew can literally see his eyes brighten. And then Neil has the gall to wink at Andrew. “Well, then start up the Netflix.”

Andrew nudges Neil’s thigh with his knee. “Move over.”

Neil whines. “But I’m so comfy.”

“You’ve literally been here for two minutes. Move.”

Neil grumbles but eventually concedes. He moves over all of a foot, giving Andrew very little space between Neil and the arm of the couch. Andrew rolls his eyes but plops down anyway. Neil’s tall but skinny and lithe. Andrew easily has more muscle mass. Part of it is due to genetics and the other part is due to Kevin dragging Andrew to the gym with him. 

“Ow,” Neil groans when Andrew lands half on him. He scoots over a bit more. “No respect for us working citizens.”

“How do you know I’m not a working citizen?”

Neil reaches over and grabs one of Andrew’s hands. He brushes his thumb over Andrew’s black fingernails. “See this? Your nails are too pretty and polished.”

Andrew snorts. “Interesting criteria. You’re wrong, though. I do have a job.”

“What is it?”

“I TA for a class.”

“What class?”

“Juvenile Justice.”

Neil laughs and Andrew nearly startles when he _feels_ the force of it on the side of his face. “Oh my gosh. You’re a criminal justice major, aren’t you?”

Andrew raises a brow. “And?”

“Nothing! It’s perfect, actually.” Neil bumps his shoulder against Andrew’s.“So, if I ever get in trouble with the law, you’ll have my back?”

“No,” Andrew responds flatly, turning back to the laptop. He pulls up Netflix, ignoring Neil’s pout and _The Great British Baking Show_ icon that sits right in front of him on the screen. “What was it you said you wanted to watch?”

Instead of just repeating the title to Andrew as the blonde expected, Neil leans over Andrew’s lap and begins to type himself. Andrew sits back against the couch, sucking in a breath and staring at the sassy redhead who’s currently _leaning over his lap_. A warm feeling begins to swirl in his groin, but Neil is then moving back. Andrew is both relieved and disappointed. 

“Have you seen this before?” Neil asks. Although he’s moved away from literally being overtop Andrew, he’s settled closer to blond than he was before. Each time either of them breaths, their shoulders brush slightly. 

“No,” Andrew responds, his voice slightly deeper and rougher than he would normally like it to be. 

“It’s so good,” Neil says. He settles in deeper to the couch, squirming as if he’s attempting to dig a hole and plant himself there. The knitted blanket is cocooned around him tightly. 

Andrew moves to get up, but Neil stops him. “Where are you going?”

“To get a blanket from my room. I’ll be right back.”

“We can just share this one.”

When Andrew turns back to stare at Neil, the redhead waggles his eyebrows at the blond and opens up the blanket. Andrew doesn’t know why he’s still surprised whenever something suggestive comes out of Neil’s mouth. He’s only known the redhead for a few hours, but at this point, he should expect it. 

Andrew slowly sits back down on the couch. He takes off his glasses and places them on the coffee table before taking the corner of the blanket Neil hands him and pulling it over his lap. It is a huge blanket, but in order to tuck it over and around both of their bodies, the two have to scoot awfully close.

Neil asks softly in Andrew’s ear, “Is this okay?”

Andrew finds himself nodding because it was okay. His skin isn’t crawling or prickling and his head isn’t swimming or buzzing. He feels calm and relaxed. They hadn’t turned on the dorm lights when they came in, so the room is rather dark. The remaining light from the setting sun leaks through the blinds and provides minimal lighting to the room. 

They talk softly throughout the movie. Andrew asks questions and points out how it doesn’t make sense for them to be singing at that moment. Neil provides explanations and huffs when Andrew points out flaws within the movie, saying “of course it doesn’t make sense in actuality, but this is a _musical_ , Andrew.”

When he isn’t firing off responses or arguing about the plot, Neil sinks low into the cushions. The audio from the movie and the lull of the fridge in the only sound other than their soft breathing. A few times Andrew looks over to see if Neil truly has fallen asleep, but he’s just as relaxed as Andrew. Neil begins to rest his head against Andrew’s arm at some point in the movie, so he can “relax and get a better angle.” Andrew finds that he doesn’t mind. Duchess also creeps out of her hiding spot and joins the two on the couch. Neil unfurls his legs and tries to get her to rest on his lap, but she stays in her usual spot behind Andrew’s shoulder. 

When they finish the movie, Neil eagerly looks toward Andrew. “Did you like it? Wasn’t it good?”

Because he knows this will annoy Neil, Andrew shrugs and says, “Passable.”

Neil swats him on the arm, but he’s smiling. “I know you’re only saying that to be difficult, but whatever. Fine then, what do you recommend?”

Andrew turns back to the screen and navigates to the show. Neil leans in close to read the title and laughs. “The Great British Baking Show?”

“You know what would go perfect with watching this show? Actually, baking.”

Neil glances over at Andrew. “Was that a subtle hint, telling me I should make you a mug cake?”

Andrew stares until Neil folds and unwraps himself from the blankets so he can head into the kitchenette. 

“Wait, Andrew come in here. I don’t know where anything is.”

“You can figure it out.”

“Andrew,” Neil _whines_. 

The blond rolls his eyes but ends up in the kitchen. He helps Neil find all the ingredients before sitting and starting season three. But then Neil yells at him for starting without him, so Andrew has to wait three minutes for Neil to whip up the mug cake and pop it in the microwave. Andrew makes the executive decision to top it off with hot fudge and ice cream, ignoring Neil’s cringe. It’s delicious. Due to his add-ons, of course. He really saved it. 

Neil somehow ropes him into painting his nails. So, the two are sitting on the living room floor since it gives them more space, watching season three of _The Great British Baking Show_ while Andrew paints Neil’s nails an obnoxious orange color. He didn’t even know he had this shade in his nail polish collection. Nicky or someone must’ve gotten it for him as a gag gift because he’s certain he’s never opened it before today. When he finishes Neil’s hands, he has the redhead shift so he can work on his toes. Andrew’s precise in his work, so that means he doesn’t really watch most of the show. He can still hear it, however, and Neil adds commentary to explain to Andrew what’s happening on the screen. 

“Done,” Andrew announces once he’s finished. 

Neil sits up and his curls bounce with the movement. The redhead holds his hands out in front of him and regards both his toe- and fingernails. 

“Mmhm, passable.”

Andrew fixes him with a flat look. “He thinks he’s a comedian.”

“Comedian, baker, barista, what can’t he do?”

“A lot of things.”

“You know it’s pretty ironic how bitter you are considering how sweet you take your coffee,” Neil sings. 

Andrew begins to push himself to his feet, but Neil leans forward and grabs his arm, careful with his nails. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Andrew,” he laughs. 

“You can leave now,” Andrews says. “I only wanted a mug cake out of you.”

Neil laughs full-heartedly, throwing his head back so the column of his throat is exposed. Andrew’s eyes are drawn towards it, and when Neil catches him looking and smirks, Andrew scowls because who the fuck does this guy think he is being this attractive and making Andrew _feel_ things. 

Andrew’s all jagged edges and scars, but Neil seems to match him edge for edge, scar for scar. It’s both oddly refreshingly and disturbing to Andrew. The whole thing is confusing and ridiculous. He _knows_. But he can’t think about it right not because no matter how hard he tries to make sense of it, he’ll draw up short. So, Andrew continues to disregard the persistent logical side of his brain as he’s been doing all night and allows himself to just _feel_. It’s safe enough to do so with just the two of them, not counting Duchess. And the darkness seems to envelop them in another layer of protection and solitude. 

Neil knows he’s bluffing and Andrew knows he is as well. He settles back against the couch while Neil just sits there in the middle of the carpet, staring at Andrew with _something soft and trusting and affectionate_. 

“You hungry?” Andrew asks.

Neil flutters his eyelashes, giving Andrew a pout. “If I say yes are you going to cook for me?”

Andrew snorts. “No. All you’re getting is leftovers.”

Neil laughs again, and Andrew ends up pulling out Aaron’s leftovers from the fridge for both of them to split. They continue watching _The Great British Baking Show_. Needless to say, those papers don’t end up getting graded that night.


	2. Chapter 2

“Renee, this isn’t a fucking joke,” Andrew all but growls.

“I never said it was, Andrew,” she replies, but Andrew can fucking _see it_. The tiny curve of her lip. She’s laughing at him. 

Andrew grumbles and pushes forward, weaving through the mass of people on the sidewalk, despite it being pretty early in the morning. He leaves Renee behind on purpose, but she catches up rather quickly. 

“You’re laughing at me,” Andrew states aloud—accuses.

“No, I’m not,” she says, despite the soft quiver in her voice. 

Andrew turns to give her a flat look. She finally gives and a full smile bloom across her lips. 

“I actually think it’s kind of cute,” she admits. 

Andrew nearly recoils. “No, _not cute_ ,” he shoots back, his voice a bit too high for his liking. The two of them turn the corner and continue down the sidewalk. “Renee, I took him home so I could hook up with him. Instead, we ended up cuddling and baking and having a spa night and watching Netflix!”

Andrew tries to keep his voice low. He really did, but he still gets a few looks—all of which he _pointedly ignores_ because it’s none of their fucking business. He’s having a crisis. 

Renee lets out a soft laugh and Andrew’s glare hardens. She holds up her hands in defense. “Andrew, there’s nothing wrong with that—“

Andrew’s expression turns incredulous and Renee amends her words. “All I’m saying is that you’re allowed to enjoy spending time with someone—outside of just hookups. If you felt comfortable and had fun…well, then maybe there’s something to be said about that.”

The two of them stop in front of the boxing club they come to twice a week. It became a routine for them soon after Andrew met Renee nearly two years ago. It was relatively close to campus. Renee already had a membership, so Andrew soon got one. Every Saturday and Wednesday the two would go together. Renee taught him most of what he knows about boxing. It’s always just them. No one else steps in, and Andrew prefers it that way. It allows their sessions to feel more private, allows _him_ to let his walls recede and let the tension and worries bleed out across the mat, the rubber flooring, the ring—whatever they’re standing on. And he always tends to have a lot of tension and worries to expend, especially today. 

Andrew shakes his head and pushes his way inside, adamantly ignoring Renee’s words and her softening gaze because _no, there isn’t anything to be said about that_. Andrew doesn’t know what the hell happened Thursday night. It was just—it was nice…he thinks? He doesn’t have much to compare it to, but it felt comfortable and—and _safe_. 

He scowls, and right then he feels his phone vibrate in his coat pocket. Without even checking it, he has a strong suspicion it’s fucking Neil Josten. The redhead must’ve stolen his phone sometime Thursday night because soon after Andrew returned back to his place after dropping Neil off at his dorm— _he wasn’t an ass, okay? He wasn’t going to make Neil walk home alone at night_ —he received a text from an unknown number thanking him for the leftovers and stellar nail job. Even over text, Andrew could practically hear the sarcasm. Neil also told Andrew to wait and not watch _The Great British Baking Show_ without him, which was ridiculous. Andrew would not be following that. He just hasn’t had a lot of free time since Thursday. That’s why he hasn’t watched any more of the show—it’s not because of Neil. 

Despite his better judgment, Andrew fishes out his phone as he makes his way to the section of lockers in the gym. It is Neil. Andrew blames the sudden warmth he’s feeling to the heavy coat that he’s still wearing, despite now being indoors. Yes, that’s it. Makes perfect sense. 

Neil has a habit of sending him pictures along with every text. This text is accompanied by an image of him leaning down next to a bowl of what looks like oatmeal with berries on top. Only his face and neck are in frame and he’s smiling wildly. He looks fresh and lively and bea—bright, despite the early hour of the morning. Well, it’s only nine but that’s relatively early for Andrew. The text reads:

**Red Dream**  
**Sent 9:03 AM**  
_This is from earlier, but I thought I would send u a prime ex of wut a proper brkfast looks like 4 wen u drag urself out of bed ;)_

Andrew should ignore the text and stuff his phone into the locker with his coat, but he finds his fingers moving the next second. 

**Andrew**  
**Sent 9:03 AM**  
_A bit presumptuous to assume I’m still in bed, don’t you think?_

He follows up with another text without really thinking about it. 

**Andrew**  
**Sent 9:03 AM**  
_Do you think about me in bed often?_

He feels a pleasant swirling sensation in his gut when he sees little dots appear on his screen as Neil immediately begins typing back a response. 

**Red Dream**  
**Sent 9:03 AM**  
_u rn’t!?? :O_

**Red Dream**  
**Sent 9:03 AM**  
_And do u want me to think abot u in bed ;)_

Andrew scoffs.

**Andrew**  
**Sent 9:03 AM**  
_no. I’m not. I don’t. Stop texting me_

Neil doesn’t stop texting him, of course. Andrew receives a selfie of Neil pouting. He might stare at the picture too long—stare at Neil’s bright blue eyes and vibrant red curls and bronzed skin and the stupid high cheekbones and the silver nose ring and the way his bottom lip juts out—Andrew shoves the phone in his locker and goes to shut the door. He pauses and pulls the phone back out. He quickly types out another text before shoving his phone back in with his coat and glasses. He slams the door, marching off to where he knows Renee will be waiting. 

**Andrew**  
**Sent 9:05 AM**  
_Your name on my phone is horrible. I’m changing it_

**Red Dream**  
**Sent 9:05 AM**  
_:((((((((_

**Red Dream**  
**Sent 9:05 AM**  
_Did u not appreciate the pun????? ;)_

**Red Dream**  
**Sent 9:05 AM**  
_Andreeeewwwwwwww_

*****

By the time Andrew and Renee left the boxing club, it was nearly eleven. Stepping out into the cool air of late October after boxing for an hour and a half is such a drastic change in temperature. Andrew brings his shoulders up in his coat, trying to conserve the remaining warmth from their workout. Renee is texting away on her phone. Andrew had checked his phone when he shrugged on his coat inside. He saw the last three texts Neil sent, but the redhead hadn’t said anything since then. 

“Andrew, do you mind if we stop by The Studio a few blocks down? Allison just finished her pilates class,” Renee explains, looking up from her phone. 

Just off their campus are numerous blocks of shops, restaurants, and other amenities that are imaginatively referred to as The Strip by college students, professors, and locals. It’s nice. There’s a lot of variety and it’s all within walking distance. Come to think of it, Andrew thinks that Indian place Aaron went to last week has to be somewhere around here. 

He shrugs at Renee, which means _‘fine, we can go pick up your girlfriend.’_ He’s not particularly fond of Allison. He doesn’t _not_ like her, but he doesn’t like her either. She’s alright. But it doesn’t really matter if Andrew likes her; she’s Renee’s girlfriend after all. And for what it’s worth, Renee does seem happier around her. And even though he’s not exactly fond of being the third wheel—not with Renee and Allison and not with his brother and the cheerleader—he’s fine with it. He’ll reward his sacrifice by stopping at the local ice cream shop _Creamy Creations_ on the way back. If his memory serves him right, it opens right at eleven. And he’ll make sure to keep his eye out for that Indian restaurant. 

The sidewalk is even more packed now and so Andrew keeps his phone in his pocket and trails behind Renee, keeping an eye out for the designer clothing her blonde girlfriend is inevitably in. 

Imagine Andrew’s fucking surprise when they approach The Studio and he spots not only Renee’s rich-bitch girlfriend but also a _familiar fucking redhead._

_Jesus fucking Christ. Is this guy everywhere?_

Andrew momentarily halts in his tracks, wondering if he could turn around and head back to campus before Neil spots him. There are certainly enough people on the sidewalk that he could likely make his escape without being seen. However, Renee would likely wonder where Andrew went, and then they would _know_ he ran off. Andrew’s in the middle of working through this inner crisis when Allison spots Renee and then him. 

_Too fucking late now._

Andrew begrudgingly heads towards the three of them who are now huddled together. Allison is introducing Neil to Renee—so it seems like Neil hasn’t met _everyone_ in Andrew’s life. That’s nice to know. 

“Annnnd,” Allison says as her eyes catch Andrew’s again as he approaches the little circle the three of them made against the building. That blonde has a fucking smile on her face that only turns more devious when Andrew shoots her a glare. “You know Andrew, of course.”

Andrew stops at the edge of their little circle right as Neil turns. He’s wearing one of those thick ridiculous headbands again, except this time it does a piss-poor job of keeping his curls under control. They’re sticking out in every which direction, partly due to the pilates class they just got out of and partly due to his hair’s natural disarray. Andrew’s developed a personal grudge against nose rings because, once again, _why the fuck are they so attractive?_ Then again, maybe it has something to do with Neil’s face and it’s not just the nose ring. Maybe. That’s up for debate. 

“Hi,” Neil breaths, smiles, what the fuck ever. His rosy cheeks make his eyes look so much bluer. 

Andrew sniffs. “Hey.”

“Straw,” Neil replies, his grin growing even more. 

Andrew raises an eyebrow. Allison rolls her eyes behind him as Neil waits excitedly for Andrew’s response. 

“It’s a lame joke,” she explains. “You don’t have to laugh.”

“Ally!” Neil exclaims. He turns on her with a look of utter betrayal. “It’s hilarious! Hay—straw. Get it?”

“Yes, Neil. I get it,” she drawls. “It’s just not funny.”

“He thinks he’s a comedian,” Andrew says, recalling those same words from Thursday night. Neil notices and his face lights up even more. Andrew can’t stand it—the smile and the knowing look Renee and Allison exchange. 

“Well, you got your girlfriend so let’s go,” Andrew grunts, turning around and heading back in the general direction of campus. 

“Wait,” Neil says slowly. Much to Andrew’s—displeasure? Pleasure?—he quickly catches up with him, stops at his side, and matches his stride. “Is this a double date!?”

Andrew almost— _almost_ —trips on the sidewalk right then and there. Part of him wishes the ground _would_ swallow him whole. 

“ _No_ ,” Andrew emphasizes because the idea of them being on a date…no, he’s not going there. He pushes further ahead, trying to outrun in-person Neil since he can’t seem to outrun the Neil that resides in his mind. He spots the ice cream store he was thinking about earlier— _Creamy Creations_ —and thinks, _yes, that’ll do nicely_. 

The door jingles as he pushes it open and he’s suddenly surrounded by pastels. Andrew is a dark blur in the space, but the woman behind the counter still smiles brightly and says, “Hi, welcome to Creamy Creations!”

Andrew gives her a noncommittal grunt and walks closer to the ice cream display case to survey the flavors as if he hasn’t been here dozens of times before and knows exactly what he’s going to order. The tell-tale jingle behind Andrew tells him that the others followed him in. 

“Really?” Neil asks as he comes up next to Andrew. The blond ignores him and tells the lady behind the counter, “I’ll have a double scoop in a waffle cone. Chocolate chip cookie dough and Rocky road.”

“Are you going to pay for mine, too?” Neil asks as he leans on the counter near Andrew. “Are you sure this isn’t a date?”

“No,” Andrew says. He pulls out his wallet and catches Neil’s growing smile out of the corner of his eye and adds, “to the first. Yes to the second.”

It’s both oddly fulfilling and unsettling that Andrew knows Neil is pouting without even having to look at him. 

“I not even going to say anything about your snack choice because I know you’ll just ignore me.”

Andrew gives Neil a look of mock surprise and amazement. “So there is a brain somewhere behind there.”

Neil shoots him a withering look. “Yes,” he says indignantly. “I’ll have you know I’m in excellent academic standing—you know, in my major classes.”

Andrew snorts but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he opts to watch the lady scoop ice cream onto his cone. He flashes Neil an almost smug look when she hands it over to him, daring the redhead to say something. And much to Andrew’s surprise, Neil turns to the worker and asks what they’re least-sweet flavor is. She gives him a dubious look because this is a _fucking ice cream shop_. 

“Um, well we have, um, rum raisin, pistachio, um, sweet potato, espresso—“

“I’ll take the espresso flavor,” Neil says. Andrew nearly rolls his eyes at Neil’s flavor choice, and Neil himself shoots Andrew a look before turning back to the worker. “Um, what’s your smallest size?”

She tells him a kid's scoop in a bowl, so he decides to take that. Andrew watches the whole exchange with a look of disbelief painted across his face. Less than a minute later Neil is turning to him with a far too satisfied look on his face and a dish of ice cream in his hand. They gave him a little mini-spoon to compliment his mini-scoop. 

Andrew doesn’t even bother with a response. He actually _does_ roll his eyes and heads towards the door. Allison and Renee are standing outside on the sidewalk. The former is leaning down and saying something in her girlfriend’s ear. As soon as Andrew steps foot outside, Allison swings her hawk-like gaze to him and hisses, “You better treat him right.”

As he stares back at her, the only change in his expression is a single raised eyebrow. Allison opens her mouth to say something else, but then Neil is stumbling out the door after Andrew, an impossibly small dish of ice cream in his hand. 

“This is good!” The redhead exclaims. Although, it sounds more like “hiss is gooh” when he’s talking with his mouth full. Neil bumps into Andrew slightly when the blond stays rooted just outside the entryway. Andrew deliberately avoids looking at Neil’s ice cream-covered tongue as he speaks.

“Chew with your mouth closed,” Andrew can’t help but grumble. He can’t believe he’s attracted to someone that is _this_ childish

“Or what?” Neil presses, opening his mouth up wider. His blue eyes sparkle and seem to almost glow on this slightly overcast day. 

“Fine. Don’t. You have so little ice cream it’ll all be gone in about two bites anyway,” he says before pushing past Renee and Allison and heading back towards campus

“This is the perfect size!” Neil protests, completely outraged. 

“For a child,” Andrew counters. “It’s literally the kids’ scoop, Neil.”

“So, what? I’m just an adult who enjoys child-sized snacks. What’s wrong with that!?” Neil huffs indignantly. 

Andrew snorts and speeds up his pace because he is _done with Neil whatever his last name is_. For real this time. Yes, for real. 

“Maybe that’s why you’re so small.”

Neil scoffs, “You’re one to talk.”

Andrew slides him a look out of the side of his eye. Neil’s bright orange nails match the bright orange mini-spoon the lady had given him. The redhead has a small spoonful of ice cream heading up into his mouth, but he pauses its movement when he sees Andrew’s flat stare. 

“I’m short,” Andrew responds, “not small.”

Neil just continues to stare at him for a second before a smooth smirk slides across his full lips. He continues leading the spoon up to his mouth and wraps his lips around it, licking the ice cream off before slowly pulling it out of his mouth. He twirls the spoon between his finger, his lips plumper and darker due to the ice cream. Neil’s blue eyes rake down Andrew’s form as he does do, lingering on his arms and shoulders before meeting the blond’s gaze once again. 

“I know.”

Neil fucking _whatever his last name_. Andrew feels a smirk begin to pull across his own lips. No, Andrew certainly isn’t done with him. And it seems like Neil isn’t done with Andrew either. The two are too busy staring at one another to notice the intersection they’re approaching. Allison yells at the two of them to stop, cursing at their stupidity once the light turns red and the walk signs light up. Andrew is still momentarily taken aback, but Neil skips up ahead, shooting a glance at Andrew from over his shoulder as he takes another seductive bite of ice cream—how the fuck does one even do that?— _fuck_ , Neil’s wearing yoga pants. Andrew is just now noticing the way the stretchy fabric clings to Neil’s legs and ass and _fuck, he’s fucked_. 

Andrew catches up to Neil again, or maybe Neil slows down to fall back with Andrew. The blond will stand by the fact that the red flush on his face is due to the cold and not the redheaded barista next to him. 

*****

The next time Andrew runs into Neil is the following week. While the blonde has already finished grading the stack of papers he had with him the previous week, the class he TAs for had another assignment dished out and due that he has to finish reviewing by the end of this week. Typically, once or twice a week, someone rents one of the study rooms in the library. It’s typically Kevin or Dan, but they all gain word of it and accumulate in the small, secluded room on the top floor. It’s dark and musky with only one small window that looks outside. The tables are arranged in a square, so everyone is facing one another. The room has a single PC in it that hooks up to the overhead projector. Kevin has, unfortunately, utilized the projector numerous times. 

Andrew is heading up to the room now. His phone has been blowing up with text messages for the past hour, most of which are from Kevin. Andrew, of course, has ignored all of them. So, when he makes his way to the top floor and steps into the study room, Kevin turns on him almost immediately and starts accusing him of purposely screening his texts. 

Andrew doesn’t bother with a response. He just continues to push his way into the room and looks at everyone else already here. Renee and Allison are sitting next to each other in one corner. Matt and Dan are relatively close to them, the former chatting more than studying. Aaron isn’t here. He doesn’t come often. He usually opts out when Katelyn or one of his other pre-health friends is available to study with. Kevin is closest to the door, his history book sprawled open and a glare directed at Andrew. The blond continues to ignore him because (1) that’s what he would typically do, and (2) he sees a familiar redhead sitting a space away from Allison. Neil looks up from the textbook in front of him and shoots Andrew a lazy and pleased grin. He stares back impassively but makes the decision to sit next to the thorn in his side. 

“What are you doing here?” Andrew asks flatly as he drops his bag down in a chair ruffly, ignoring everyone else’s greeting as they notice his presence. 

Neil’s grin widens and he taps his wooden pencil against the table. “Studying, Andrew. I do more in the library than just make coffee.”

Andrew’s mouth twists and Neil’s cheeks crinkle even more. Allison is shooting him another narrow-eyed look from over Neil’s head. Andrew ignores that too and sits down at the end of one table. He’s sitting two seats away from Neil, but with the way the tables are arranged—in the square-like formation—he’s actually slightly facing the redhead. Andrew doesn’t look at him before digging into his backpack and pulling out the papers that he needs to work on. He reckons they won’t take that long, but he still has his own work to do after that. Andrew is about to put in his earbuds to block all of the chatter out, but Renee speaks up before he can drown everyone out. 

“Andrew. I know Aaron isn’t here but since the rest of us are, we figured we could talk about your birthday plans.”

Andrew blinks and then continues to fit the buds into his ears. Allison rolls her eyes, but Dan’s the one who speaks up. 

“You know we’re going to have to talk about it at some point. Your birthday _is_ this weekend.”

“Your birthday’s this weekend?” Neil asks, swiveling his head back around to look at Andrew. 

“Unfortunately,” he says. “Another drab year to record in the theoretical books.”

“Hmmm.” Neil purses his lips and squints, tapping his pointer finger on his bottom lip as he pretends to think. “Let me guess—you’re a college student but something tells me you’re actually much older at heart. Maybe…50s—you know, because of all of the grouchiness and such.”

“Nailed it,” Andrew deadpans as he sorts the papers by class section. “And you’re what? A college student who’s much younger at heart? Eight maybe.”

He chose the kids’ scoop for crying out loud. 

“Nine, actually,” Neil says proudly, leaning back in his chair. 

“Are they flirting?” 

Andrew hears Matt’s confused whisper to Dan—although, it’s a piss-poor attempt at _whispering_ considering Andrew can _hear exactly what he’s saying_. Dan just pats Matt on the hand twice. 

“ _Anyways_ ,” Allison says slowly, interrupting their bantering. “I told them you wouldn’t want to talk about it and that we should just do what we’ve done before.”

“What did you do before?” Neil asks. He blinks innocently as Andrew glares at him. 

“We usually celebrate their birthday at our Friendsgiving get-together at the end of the semester,” Kevin explains. “We hold off and after everyone’s done with finals, we drive out to the coast and spend the weekend at this beach house. My parents split the price with Allison and Matt.”

“Everyone else is a free rider,” Allison quips, a grin on her lips. She laughs when Renee swats at her. 

“That sounds like fun,” Neil says, causing Andrew to roll his eyes. ‘ _Fun_ ’ is not exactly something Andrew strives for, especially not in regard to his birthday party. The thought alone nearly makes him cringe. 

“It’s happening whether you like it or not,” Kevin says, picking up on his cringe. “It’s tradition.”

“How was your date with Thea, Kevin?” Andrew retaliates. Kevin flushes and ducks his head. 

_Tradition_. Andrew hates that word too. It’s a fancy obligation—that’s what a tradition is. Why is Andrew obligated to celebrate _his_ birthday? Shouldn’t that be his choice to make? 

Something knocking against his boot jerks him out of his thoughts. He looks up and catches Neil’s gaze. The redhead is slouched in his chair. He knocks his foot against’s Andrew’s again and curves his lips up into a small smile. When Andrew doesn’t react, Neil just plops his feet on top of Andrew’s permanently. Andrew doesn’t shake them off, and Neil’s smile widens. 

“Whatever,” Andrew huffs. “You guys aren’t going to listen to me anyway.”

“That’s the spirit,” Allison exclaims. She pulls out her phone and begins tapping away. 

Andrew puts the earbuds in now, set on ignoring everyone for the rest of the time. He’s met his talking quota for the day. The peace lasts for _maybe_ forty minutes before Neil is back to playing footsie with him—something everyone else could very much see if they just looked up. Andrew raises an eyebrow at Neil and the redhead jumps a seat close to him. The only thing separating the two now is the single chair with Andrew’s backpack resting in it. Neil leans closer and begins to say something. Andrew refuses to take the earbuds or turn down his music, but Neil just reaches back over to his supplies. He flips his notebook over to a new page and takes his pen. He jots something down and then sets the notebook on the table in between him and Andrew. 

_‘What are you working on?’_

Andrew rolls his eyes because _passing notes? Are they really doing that?_ And Neil’s handwriting is atrocious, yet not so much that it's illegible.

Neil nudges his foot up against Andrew’s again until the blond picks up his own pen and writes back a response. 

_‘School.’_

Neil cracks a smile when he sees Andrew’s answer and is quick to write something back. 

_‘Is it your mysterious TA work?’_

_‘Due to confidentiality reasons, I can neither deny nor confirm that.’_

_‘Now you’ve got me sitting on the edge of my seat.’_

_‘Good. Maybe you’ll fall off.’_

_‘ :( ‘_

_‘Don’t you have work of your own to do, Mr. college student?’_

_‘Yeah, but it’s not too bad. I understand it easily enough.’_

_‘Oh yeah, and what is your major? For your sake, I hope it’s not anything acting-related. You’d fail pitifully at that.’_

Neil’s nose scrunches up when he smiles really big, which causes his nose ring to do the same. This observation of his is what makes Andrew realize he’s been staring at Neil to see his reactions to every response. Andrew darts his eyes back down to the notebook. 

_‘FYI (that stands for For Your Information if you didn’t know) I’m an excellent actor, but no, that’s not what I’m studying.’_

_‘I know what FYI stands for. And you’re distracting me from doing my work.’_

_‘You find me distracting? ;)’_

Andrew rolls his eyes and turns his full attention back to the papers. He’s over halfway done now and if he keeps working steadily, he could finish the stack and actually have time to work on his coursework tonight. Neil swipes his pen out of his hand when Andrew goes back to grading. The blond turns on the redhead who nudges the notebook closer. 

_‘What do you think my major is?’_

Andrew looks over Neil—today the redhead is wearing a pair of high-waisted hunter green corduroy pants with a brown belt and a brown long-sleeve shirt that’s tucked in rather sloppily. It should look horrible— _Neil_ should look horrible, but he fucking doesn’t. Gross. 

_‘If you can guess my major,’_ Neil scribbles down, _‘I’ll pay for your coffee order next time.’_

Dammit. Andrew should not be as intrigued over fucking coffee as he currently is. Or maybe he’s intrigued because this is Neil offering something _to_ him, _for_ him. And Andrew would be lying if he said he wasn’t competitive—or if he said he didn’t want to have something over Neil….a win. That’s what—not anything else over Neil—although…he wouldn’t mind that either. He would actually _like that_. 

_‘You only get one guess a day, though.’_

Andrew glances over at Neil to find the redhead smirking at him, egging him on. 

_‘Challenge accepted.’_

Neil full-out grins. 

_‘No cheating.’_

_‘I never cheat.’_

_‘That’s exactly what a cheater would say.’_

_‘And you know because you are one?’_

“Hey, are you guys writing notes back and forth?”

Andrew and Neil ignore Kevin’s question and continue writing. 

_‘No, I play by the rules, Minyard.’_

_‘For some reason, I don’t believe that.’_

Andrew pauses and thinks for a moment before also writing: 

_‘What’s your last name?’_

Neil’s just been _Neil_ or annoying redhead or some other synonymous term that’s both insulting and/or sexy. Neil knows Andrew’s last name, but Andrew doesn’t know Neil’s. There’s an invisible line in regards to familiarly that one crosses once their last name is known. Instead of a regular _“John”_ in one’s contact list, that _“John”_ becomes identifiable as an actual, distinct human being. “John Roberts” or some shit. Although, Andrew hasn’t changed Neil’s contact name to “Neil”; it’s still “Red Dream.”

Neil bites his bottom lip to hold back a smile and leans forward to write his answer. 

_‘Josten.’_

Neil Josten. The name squirms its way into Andrew’s chest and buries itself there as if to say _‘there’s no getting rid of me now.’_ You’re in for the long-run. 

Yeah, he knows. 

Fuck. 

“You two literally have each other’s number…”

“Shhh, shhh, shhh, Dan they’re _flirting_.”

“Shut up, Matthew.”

******

Andrew really doesn’t know how Neil keeps appearing everyone Andrew seems to be. At this point, the blond wouldn’t be surprised if Neil revealed he actually has a sort of Marauder’s Map or some similar shit that he uses to track down Andrew. Today, Neil runs into him outside of the Literature building on campus. Andrew can tell the moment Neil sees him because the redhead’s stupid face lights up. Before he can say anything, though, Andrew raises his hand and points at the building. 

“Literature.”

It’s a question—a guess—even if it doesn’t sound like it. Neil is confused for only a split second before he catches on. A smile splits its way across his lips. 

“Nope,” Neil says, popping the ‘p’ as he practically prances over to Andrew. “Now _you_ owe _me_ a coffee.”

“That’s not part of the deal,” Andrew counters. “And don’t you get a discount at _The Grind House_?”

“Yeah, but sometimes it’s just nice when other people buy you things,” Neil says, pouting. He flutters his long eyelashes at Andrew and— _dammit_ —Andrew looks away, his jaw clenched.

“Maybe.”

“If you wanna figure out my major you’re gonna have to think harder. Use your detective sleuthing skills.”

Andrew huffs and rolls his eyes, but something warm and fuzzy settles its way into his chest as Neil’s grin widens and he takes his place next to Andrew’s side as if it’s completely natural for him. Andrew is heading to his next class, but he’s a bit ahead of schedule so he can slow his pace, which he does. Andrew doesn’t know where Neil is headed, but the redhead sticks himself to Andrew’s side and just babbles for a moment before Andrew realizes—

“Are you wearing lip gloss?” Andrew hears himself ask dumbly. 

“Yeah,” Neil replies easily, shrugging the strap of his book bag higher up over his shoulder. “Allison gave me a whole bunch. I’ve been trying a few recently just to see how I like it.”

“Huh” is all Andrew could currently manage, his brain too caught up on the fact that Neil _wears lip gloss_ , that he’s _wearing_ lip gloss. 

“I think this one is called _palm breeze_ or something like that. I’m not really for sure. I think I like it though. It’s a nice color—and it smells good.”

“Hmmm” is Andrew’s input. He’s very much focused on lifting and placing his feet down in front of him so that he doesn’t trip. And thankfully the winter cold gives him an excuse for his red cheeks. 

“Do you want to know what it smells like?”

Andrew raises an eyebrow, not exactly trusting his voice at the moment. _Holy fuck_ , Neil Josten is either extremely dense or he enjoys watch Andrew squirm because— _holy fuck_.

“It smells like…” Neil pauses, pondering for a moment. Andrew takes advantage of the moment and peaks over at the redhead. He’s not wearing a headlock today so his mess of curls continuously falls onto his forehead every few steps. Neil doesn’t seem to notice. He merely continues talking and pushes his hair back. Andrew notices the orange polish he had painted on the redhead a few days prior still on his nails. It still clashes horribly with Neil’s coloring, but Andrew feels a pang of affection in his chest. He’s is too busy admiring Neil to fully comprehend what the redhead is saying, that is until the next sentence comes out of Neil’s mouth. 

“Do you want to know what it tastes like?” Neil asks.

Andrew nearly trips over his feet and face plants right there in front of the dozens of other students because _did he hear that right_? Heat crawls down Andrew’s neck and across his face. He looks over at Neil, hoping his expression doesn’t reveal what he’s thinking. 

And Neil fucking Josten has the gall to flash him that sharp grin before swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. It was quick and not at all meant to be seductive, so Andrew should not have found the entire motion as erotic as he did. He pushes down the heat that’s rising in his groin and looks away from the redhead menace standing at his side. 

“Like peaches,” Neil says.

“I hate peaches,” Andrew responds, just to be contrary.

“Mmhhm, I don’t think you do,” Neil croons, leaning in close so that his warm breath washes over the side of Andrew’s face, his ear. That certainly doesn’t help his current…condition. 

“I have to go to class,” Andrew says as he quickens his pace, pulling away from the devilish redhead. Neil’s laugh follows him all the way to class. 

*****

“Science,” Andrew says as soon he steps up to the counter. It’s not a horrible guess he supposes. Neil is rather critical of Andrew’s food and drink choices. He runs and takes pilates. And it’s another broad category for Andrew to cross off his list if he’s wrong—which he is. _Again_. He knows that he is as soon as Neil’s smile widens.

“That’ll be $5.88,” the redhead says _far too gleefully_ as he rings in Andrew’s usual order. 

Andrew narrows his eyes at Neil as he rips out his student ID from his wallet. He reluctantly holds it out to Neil who _still looks much too pleased_.

“Actually, sir,” Neil says sweetly, batting his eyelashes, “Can you hold your card up to the scanner? It’s a new method we’re trying out—scanning instead of swiping.”

Neil’s smile only widens the harsher Andrew’s glare becomes. Though, he does what Neil says, albeit much slower than required. 

“Thank you,” Neil sings when the scanner beeps. He turns to start making Andrew’s drink. 

“You’re not even going to give me a hint?” Andrew presses. “Our university offers 110 majors.”

“Wow, Andrew,” Neil says, positively aghast. He turns and gives Andrew a dramatic, baffled look. “You didn’t strike me as someone who would need a crutch to win.”

Those words are the same words Andrew said to Neil that night the redhead came to his dorm. The words are baiting. Andrew knows this; Neil knows this. Andrew’s narrowed expression turns into a scowl and Neil laughs. 

“I’ll figure you out, Neil Josten,” Andrew says as Neil turns back to work on his drink. 

Once Neil finishes up the chocolatey sugar monstrosity and slides it over the counter, he gives Andrew a deep and open look. 

“I hope you do.”

*****

During the days leading up to Finals week, they rent out the study room nearly every day. The chatter is reduced to a minimum now that everyone is swamped with material to study. The moments of conversation arise during their unspoken agreement of when bathroom and coffee occur. 

Aaron shows up some days. Neil too when he’s not working at _The Grind House_. When Neil first sees Aaron in person, he looks between the two of them and says “huh” before moving forward and dropping down in his designated seat next to Andrew. Aaron raises an eyebrow, but Andrew refuses to address it. He puts his earbuds in and reads. Sometimes Neil’s hand drifts over and finds Andrew’s below the table. 

*****

The weekend after finals is bittersweet. Sweet because the school semester is finished and he has a month or so off before returning to complete yet another semester to put himself closer to graduating. Bitter because when finals time is over, that means that it’s birthday time. And what’s even worse is that most people just have a birthday, but his acquaintances feel it's necessary for him and Aaron to have a birth _weekend_. 

“You can glare and pout all you want, but this is still happening,” Kevin says as he finishes loading up his bags into the car.

“Don’t slam the trunk shut,” Andrew snaps back from the driver’s seat. He watches Kevin carefully close the trunk from the side mirror before adding, “And I do not pout.”

Kevin opens his mouth to object when he slides into the passenger seat, but promptly closes it when he sees Andrew’s face. 

“Fine, whatever, but you should try to enjoy yourself, Andrew. You may not like celebrating your birthday, but you and Aaron are finally on good terms. You’re doing good things in your life. You have all of us and my parents. Plus Neil.”

Andrew puts the car in reverse and pulls out of Kevin’s driveway. He raises an eyebrow. “Neil?”

Kevin gives him an exasperated look. “Yes, _Neil_. I’m not stupid. All of us have noticed what’s going on between you two.”

“Nothing is _going on_ ,” Andrew stresses. Andrew painted Neil’s nails. Neil makes Andrew desserts in solid and liquid form. They watch _The Great British Baking Show_ together and the occasional musical when Neil requests it. They banter and flirt and text, but nothing’s _happened_ between the two of them—nothing like what Andrew intended when he first invited Neil over to his place. 

“Sure,” Kevin snorts. “Whatever. Well, Neil’s going to be there this weekend. So, whatever this ‘nothing’ is, you might what to figure it out tonight.”

Andrew doesn’t respond, and the rest of the drive down to Myrtle Beach happens in complete silence. Well, not _complete_ silence. Kevin’s incapable of that, but he’s smart enough to not bring up Neil or the birthday or anything like that. He comments on meaningless things, and Andrew can’t decide if that’s more annoying than the alternative. 

The two of them arrive at the beach house when it’s still light outside. They aren’t the first ones to arrive. By the looks of it, Allison, Renee, Matt, and Dan are already here. Aaron told Andrew that he would be arriving later with Katelyn. Kevin mentioned Neil is coming, too. As for all the other guests—Andrew has no fucking clue. He doesn’t even know who else is coming. While they use this weekend as a time to celebrate the twins’ birthday, this is also a time to celebrate other things. Therefore, everyone invites their own people. Andrew doesn’t mind it. If anything, he prefers it. The more people there are, the more people seem to forget about him and he can slink off to a dark corner each night and bathe in peace and quiet—or rather, some sense of solitude. There’s no such thing as _quiet_ here. Not during this weekend. 

But the beach house itself is the same one they rent every year. It’s on the outskirts of Myrtle Beach, so it still has a bit of privacy that Andrew prefers as opposed to the wild, over-populated beaches that everyone floods during Spring Break. 

“Glad one of the Minyard twins showed up,” Allison drawls as the two of them walk into the kitchen. The four of them are already dressed up and working on the party food. Matt and Dan are unloading the bags of groceries while Allison and Renee are getting started on mixing the alcohol. 

“Aaron said he’s coming with Katelyn later,” Kevin supplies while Andrew slides onto one of the barstool. Renee wordless slides him over a bottle of alcohol, which he cracks open. When Matt begins to complain about Andrew being able to drink already, the blond points on that it is his birthday weekend. Matt grumbles that Andrew’s only saying that because it benefits him. Andrew shrugs and continues to sip his drink. Whenever anyone tries to recruit him to help set up the appetizer trays or the outdoor bar, he uses that same excuse and eventually wanders off to find some dark, unknown space where the others can’t find him. The beach house is honestly unnecessarily large, so finding a secluded place isn’t difficult at all. 

He finishes the drink and then waits another hour or so. He doesn’t get up under his bladder has become too insistent to ignore. After going to the bathroom, he hears all the chatter coming from the main living area. Other people have definitely arrived at the house. Andrew _could_ slink back into the unexplored areas of the house and see how long it would take for someone to seek him out and drag him back to the part—because that _would_ happen at some point—or Andrew could bite the bullet and go out into the fray now. He _did_ need another drink if he wanted to have any chance of getting through this night. 

Before stepping into the living room, he hears a familiar voice that makes him falter. As he turns the corner, he freezes. Nicky turns a moment later. 

“Andrew!” He exclaims, jumping up from the couch to approach him. He stops a few feet away with his arms up and hesitates. In high school, Andrew avoided and detested hugs and other sorts of physical contact. He’s worked on it since then and allows it for those closest to him. Those he trusts and feels comfortable around. When he gives Nicky a small nod, his cousin’s smile widens and Nicky envelopes him in his arms. The hug lasts a few seconds before Nicky is pulling away. 

“It’s good to see you.”

“What are you doing here?” Andrew asks, looking over at the couch where Erik sits. Aaron and Katelyn are here too, along with a few other people Andrew’s seen in passing before. Aaron and Katelyn pre-med friends. 

“It’s your guys’ birthday, Andrew. I know I’ve missed other ones since I’ve been in Germany, but I didn’t want to miss you and Aaron’s 21st. Soooo, Erik and I were able to work some things out, and here we are!”

“He came for all the free booze,” Allison summarizes from her spot on the large L-shaped couch that sits on the far side of the living room. 

“We _brought_ booze, bitch,” Nicky shoots back, grinning. 

“Probably the cheap kind,” Allison responds.

“That’s the best kind,” Nicky counters. 

“That’s what poor people say,” Allison fires back and then Erik is holding Nicky back as his cousin lunges at Allison. It’s all fun and games. Nicky dissolves into a fit of giggles as Erik collapses back onto the couch with Nicky in his arms. Allison curls up closer to Renee and snickers into her ear. 

“Babe, hold my drink,” Allison says. 

Andrew looks over to Aaron. His twin is sitting on the recliner, Katelyn perched on his lap, but Aaron has a small, gentle smile gracing his lips. Andrew feels some of the tension seep out of his bones. He heads into the kitchen to grab another drink before settling on the outskirts of their group in the living room. 

Matt brought his Wii and they end up hooking it up to the living room TV. The game selection he brought is, apparently, “the best Wii games ever—no cap.” The group chooses among _Wii Sports, Wii Sports Resort, Mario Kart, Guitar Hero, Just Dance_ , and _Karaoke Revolution_. Those titles mean little to Andrew. 

“These are _not_ the best Wii games ever,” Kevin argues, brows drawn low. 

“For a _party_ , they are,” Matt shoots back. “Don’t be a party pooper this early, Day. Pick one.”

They end up picking _Mario Kart_ first. And for someone who was initially complaining, Kevin gets rather into it pretty quickly. 

Andrew nurses this drink slowly. He doesn’t want to get completely wasted. He’s aiming for a steady buzz by the end of the night, so he needs to pace himself. The others seem to be going all in. Nicky, Kevin, Allison, Matt, and Dan are pretty far gone a few hours in. More people keep coming in through the front door by the minute under the house is flooded with people. Andrew wonders if Allison invited the whole fucking college. At some point, someone turned on a sound system that must’ve been installed because a song begins to play throughout the space, barely audible over the increased chatter. 

Nicky and Erik are playing a round of _Just Dance_ when Andrew finishes off his second drink and ventures into the kitchen to get a third. With how many fucking people there are here, they’re bound to run out of alcohol at some point. So, Andrew—being the forward-thinker that he is—grabs a few bottles and cans and heads to a secluded part of the house to stash them away for later. It’s _his_ fucking birthday weekend, after all. 

When he steps back into the living room, the front door opens again. He hasn’t necessarily been paying attention to who’s coming and going—he just notices the house and the backyard is getting increasingly more crowded. But he happens to look over this time and he’s glad he does because Neil is the next person stepping in through the door. Andrew will admit he’s likely biased when it comes to Neil, but how can he _not_ be? In comparison to everyone else in the room, Neil is vibrant. He would stand out regardless—even if Andrew didn’t already have his eyes on him…especially tonight. 

Neil’s mentioned before that Allison gives him makeup and fashion advice. Andrew wonders if she helped pick out his outfit for tonight. He’s wearing dark, ripped skinny jeans that show more skin than they cover. Andrew’s able to see the tight and tanned muscles of Neil’s legs that he knows must’ve been built up over the years from doing pilates and running. His shirt is an overly-large graphic tee once again. It’s poorly tucked in and obviously very worn. The neckline is so stretched out that Neil’s collarbones and the sharp lines of his shoulders are visible. Overtop the tee if a nice red jacket that matches his hair. And Andrew can’t be exactly sure because Neil’s features are striking enough as is, but he thinks the redhead may be wearing some makeup, as well. His curls run wild—the ocean breeze likely helped with that—and he still has his stupidly attractive nose ring in.

Andrew thinks about walking over there to say... _something_ , but before he’s able to move, another figure slides in after Neil. The guy is tall and attractive and…entirely too close to Neil. Andrew watches as the guy slings an arm around Neil’s shoulder, pulling him in close and whispering something in the shell of his ear. Neil laughs and pushes the guy away. The guy has an easy grin on his face and follows Neil into the crowd. 

Andrew feels a rush of emptiness and disappointment. It’s gone a moment later and a nasty thing begins to brew in the pits of his stomach. It creeps up to his chest and throat and burns. He tries to wash it back down by tossing back the drink in his hand and chugging half of it all in one go. When he rips the bottle away from his mouth, he stomps off towards the backyard, away from the house and Neil with that guy because Andrew _does_ deserve to have some good memories on his birthday—or rather, his birthday weekend, so _fuck Neil Jos_ —

“Andrew!” 

The blond whirls around and sees another familiar figure weaving through the clusters of people to walk up to him. 

“Roland,” Andrew says, genuinely surprised to find him here. The two hadn’t talked in months—not that there was bad blood between them. Andrew and Roland fooled around during the summer whenever Andrew worked his seasonal job at the club. Once school started again, the two didn’t really talk. Their arrangement was understood on both ends—it wasn’t problematic. And while Andrew occasionally picked up on some shifts at the club during winter break too—which led to some more fooling around between him and Roland—he didn’t expect the bartender to show up here at the party.

“Aaron mentioned the party to me,” Roland explains over the chatter and the music. “You guys are turning 21, Andrew! The big two-one. I had to make it!”

“Roland—,” Andrew begins. 

The other man waves him off. “I know. I get it. This isn’t me _making a move_ or anything. I just wanted to be here. For you, yes, but also just to have fun. Nothing more.”

Roland flashes Andrew a little private smile before taking a step closer. “But,” he says quietly, “if you are looking for a little birthday kiss or something more at midnight, you know where to find me.”

And with that, Roland slinks right by him, but not before flashing him a wink as he disappears into the crowd. Andrew lets out a heavy breath and looks out beyond the backyard to where the planted grass fades off into sand. He tosses back the rest of his drink and drops it into one of the large trashcans someone must have set up out back. It’s already half-way full of beer cans and glass bottles. 

Andrew stalks off down the beach. Some of the party-goers have migrated out onto the beach behind the house. Matt and Dan are among them, so Andrew’s not too worried. Although, they have all started a bonfire by the looks of it, which Andrew isn’t exactly sure is…legal. But that’s not his problem. He shouldn’t have to deal with that. 

He keeps walking until the commotion from the party fades until it’s just background noise and the light is a dim candle in the distance. Andrew then realizes he hasn’t eaten anything since this morning, but he’s not particularly hungry. His stomach feels empty in more than one way, which annoys Andrew because it’s his fucking birthday weekend. Why—out of all times—does Andrew feel like this _now_? This is supposed to be a happy time—or at least a neutral time—but then fucking Neil Josten—

Andrew huffs out a hollow laugh and kicks at the sand. It sprays back on him due to the windy night. His lip curls in disgust, but he keeps pushing forward. 

Neil-pipe-dream-Josten. Andrew should’ve known it was too good to be true. Neil was— _Neil_ —vibrant and sexy and mysterious and quick-witted. Well, that last one was debatable, maybe. The worst part is—worse than Neil himself lying to Andrew—was that Andrew did this to himself. He invited Neil over and into his life with the intention of him being nothing but a one-night stand. But Andrew was...hopeful? If that what Bee would call it?… and let Neil stay. Hoped Neil would want to stay and pick him, but it was all too good to be true. Neil had other options—better options than Andrew. Clearly. So Neil Josten and Life once against smacked Andrew upside the head and reminded him that _“this is life. This is how it is for people like you.”_

“Andrew.”

The blond whirls around in the sand and stares at Neil with wide eyes. Fucking shit, does Neil just manifest whenever Andrew thinks about him. He can’t be real. _This_ isn’t real. Then Andrew bitterly reminds himself that there is no _‘this’_ —not between him and Neil. 

“Neil,” Andrew rasps. He swallows and turns so he’s facing the redhead more fully. 

“What are you doing out here?” Neil questions. He gnaws on his lip and looks up over Andrew’s outfit quickly before returning his gaze back to his face. 

“I’m taking a walk.”

Andrew’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he instinctively reaches for it, pulling it out. The text is from Kevin. 

**No one important**  
**Sent 7:57 PM**  
_Where are you? Nicky said he saw you wander off_

“Who’s texting you?” Neil asks, tilting his chin up and peering over as if to try and see for himself whose name popped up on Andrew’s phone. 

“No one important,” Andrew murmurs in response, which _technically_ is Kevin’s name on his phone. Andrew quickly pockets his phone and turns his full attention back to Neil. 

“Why’d you follow me?” 

His voice is flat, which isn’t abnormal, but there’s a sudden lack of warmth residing in his voice and his expression that has Neil faltering. The redhead begins to fidget, playing with the cuffs of his jacket or the ripped fabric of his jeans. There’s no sure confidence present on Neil’s face like there always seems to be. He’s…worried…about something. 

“I just…I wanted to wish you happy birthday, I guess,” Neil says with a pinched smile on his face. He shrugs one shoulder and stares at Andrew. 

_Really? Happy birthday? That’s it?_

“Thanks” is the word that leaves Andrew’s mouth instead. It’s flat and twisted. Andrew can tell it hits home because Neil flinches slightly. Andrew’s pissed and hurt, but even more pissed— _at himself_ —because he still doesn’t want to hurt Neil, to see him react like that. So, he turns again and begins walking further down the beach. 

“Andrew!” 

“What? What else do you want?” Andrew snaps, spinning around. 

Neil, who’s now only steps away, stumbles back at Andrew’s palpable rage. _Oh yes_ , Andrew thinks, _welcome_.

Neil takes a deep breath as he regards Andrew. He does do carefully, with more attention than Andrew’s even been granted and that just pisses him off more. 

“What’s wrong?” Neil asks. “You’re upset, obviously and—“

“ _What’s wrong_?” Andrew retorts. “Short answer: a lot of things. Long answer: I was fucking coerced into coming out here for my birthday and thought ‘hey, maybe it won’t be so bad. You’re bound to hit the jackpot one of these times, right?’ So, I’m trying to—I’m _trying_ , Neil. Because things are finally looking up and things are happening to me that are _worth_ trying over. Or at least I _thought_ so. And then you—“

Andrew stops. Breathes. He counts to ten and focuses on his surroundings. He tries to remember the methods Bee taught him during their sessions. Neil, to his credit, stays quiet and waits. Although, his face is twisted in such a way that Andrew can’t bear to look at it. So he looks at the sand beyond Neil’s shoulder, back towards the house. 

“That guy you showed up with—look, it’s none of my business really. But just—just answer this question for me. Think of it as your gift to me.” Andrew’s lip curls once again. _What a nice fucking gift_. “Were you ever planning on telling me you had someone else?”

Neil’s brows wrinkle and the look he gives Andrew is one of complete bafflement. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Andrew snaps. “The guy you showed up with. The one who was practically all over you? Ring a bell?”

Neil stops and blinks, his mouth gaping. Then— _“Jean?”_ He exclaims. His voice is loud and incredulous and _angry_. Why the fuck is _he_ angry? Andrew is the one who saw him walk in under some other asshole’s arm. 

_“Jean?”_ Neil repeats in absolute shock. “You think—me and—and _Jean_?”

“Stop. Speak fucking English,” Andrew hisses back. 

“That guy I came with is Jean! My roommate _Jean_! You know, the one who’s dating _Jeremy_. My co-worker, Jeremy,” Neil explains pointedly, his hands flying throughout the air as he explains himself. 

Andrew’s world pauses and then realigns itself. The rage is contorting and deflating. It leaves his body until he’s left just feeling _tired_...but hopeful? There's room for _something_.

“That was Jean,” he repeats. “He’s your roommate. Your roommate who is dating your co-worker Jeremy.”

“Yes, that’s what I just said!” Neil snaps.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Andrew huffs to no one in particular as he wipes his hands down his face. 

“Jeremy dropped Jean and me off because all the close parking spots were taken. So, he had to drive down the block to find a place.”

Andrew must take too long to respond, but Neil is shooting out more. 

“Jean and I aren’t a thing—“

“Thanks, I got that, Neil,” Andrew cuts in, voice short and labored. 

Neil nearly curls in on himself at Andrew’s response and the blond is left cursing temper. “Then, why are you still so upset?”

“I’m not—I’m _thinking_ , Neil. Am I not allowed to think?” Andrew grounds back. He hears waves crashing and people laughing in the distance. They really have no business being this happy and having fun when Andrew’s in this situation. 

“What is there is think about, Andrew!?” Neil cries back. The ocean breeze pushes his curls around wildly. Neil’s fragile expression shifts into one of annoyance and despair. “Does it have to do with _Roland_?”

Andrew jerks back at this and feels his head spinning as he tries to deal with the change in topic. “Roland? What about him?”

“I _saw_ you two,” Neil says, “by the pool outside. The body language and—he propositioned you, didn’t he? Which is _fine_ , I guess. People are _allowed_ to do that, but I—“

“Roland and I aren’t anything,” Andrew states flatly. Because that’s it. They mess around. That’s the extent of their interaction. There’s no obligation between them. 

“It didn’t seem that way,” Neil grouches. His fingers dig into the cuffs of his jackets as he tries to stand tall in front of Andrew, but the blond can see the way his hands tremble. 

“Well, _I’m_ telling you it’s nothing,” Andrew says. Neil still looks unsure and _so fucking sad_ , so Andrew adds, “We had a fling. We fool around during the summer whenever we work together. It’s never been anything serious and it never will be. He knows that as well as I do.”

“Okay,” Neil says, but his voice sounds quiet and unsure. He’s not looking at Andrew, but instead is fiddling entirely with his cuffs now, attention completely on them. 

Andrew waits and stays silent, giving Neil what Neil gave him when he was trying to articulate what he was feeling.

“I know I’ve been teasing and flirting and that can be confusing, but I just—“ Neil’s voice gets caught in his throat and he takes a deep, shuttering breath. Andrew can see the reflection of the bonfire dancing in his eyes along with the building tears. “I thought you _liked_ me—thought you were _interested_ in me.”

“I _was_ —I _am_ ,” Andrew insists as he steps closer to Neil. He stops moving forward as the redhead takes a step away in response. 

“I do like you. I am interested,” Andrew clarifies. Hearing those words spoken aloud, especially to Neil, makes his heart pound for an entirely different reason. 

Neil stays huddled back against himself, eyes shining and lower lip protruding into a pout unconsciously. 

“Talk to me,” Andrews _asks_. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking.”

Neil chews on his bottom lip. “You like me?”

“Yes.”

“Like, you like, _like_ me?”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Yes, Josten. I like, _like_ you.”

Andrew feels a little weight being lifted from his chest when Neil cracks a slow smile. 

“And for the long run?” He whispers. 

Neil is back to wringing his hands in the cuffs of his jacket, his pants—anything he can reach. Andrew takes the risk and steps forward until he’s within arms’ reach. He holds out his hands and waits for Neil. The redhead lets out an uneven exhale but slowly raises his hands and places them in Andrew’s palms. Andrew has held Neil’s hand before, but here—like this—he’s able to really see and feels the difference between the two of them. 

Neil’s fingers are skinner and appear longer because of it, but their fingers are about the same lengths. Andrew’s palm and fingers, on the other hand, are wider and overall larger. He’s able to wrap his hands around Neil’s and hold them comfortably. They fit one another. 

“For the long run,” Andrew confirms, keeping his eyes latched onto Neil’s. He gets to see the way Neil’s expression slowly morphs from one of vulnerable uncertainly to one of growing hope and then one of excitement and what he can now identify as adoration. 

“Okay, yeah—yes,” Neil says. He’s nodding as he’s saying this, a confident smile gracing its way across his lips once again. At that moment, Andrew can’t felt but mirror it as the sinking feeling disappears from his body—inside and out—completely. 

Andrew lets go of one of Neil’s hand to bring his own hand up to Neil’s cheek. He cradles the redhead’s face and brushes his thumb over the sharp cheekbone and the raised scars. Neil stares back at him unflinchingly and with complete trust, but Andrew still asks. 

“Yes?” 

Neil is nodding once again and leaning forward as soon as the word leaves Andrew’s mouth. Andrew is quick to meet him half-way. When their lips touch, all Andrew can think is _finally, finally, they are doing this_. 

Andrew turns his head to slightly deepen the kiss, opening up his mouth and giving and taking—trying to _show_ Neil how much he’s in this and how much he cares. Neil groans into Andrew’s mouth and presses forward, his own lips moving in response to Andrew’s and giving and taking just as much. 

Their sweet and tender kiss soon turns into one of fiery passion. They’re damaged and jagged people, and with sharp teeth and rough hands is how they know how to love. 

Andrew brings his other hand to the small of Neil’s back to press the redhead closer to him. Neil happily sinks in closer, rubbing his front half against Andrew, rekindling a flame in the pit of Andrew’s stomach. Andrew growls into Neil’s mouth and bites his lower lip, causing Neil to moan and grabs on tighter to the back of Andrew’s shirt. He draws Andrew closer as if wanting Andrew to completely _merge_ with Neil’s being. And Andrew would if he could. 

Andrew responds by pushing Neil back, back, back until the momentum is too much and Neil collapses back into the grassy sand dunes. Andrew’s glasses get in the way, so he takes them off a tosses them on the sand nearby. He refuses to release Neil and slots himself over the redhead. Neil is just as desperate to keep Andrew close. He tugs Andrew in, in, in until Andrew’s shirt stitching rips and there’s not a centimeter of space between them. 

Neil throws his head back and gasps when they line up _just right_ and Andrew’s breaths are heavy and wet against the tempting slope of Neil’s neck. He can’t help but bend down a bit further and press his lips against that bronzed, sweat-slick skin. He slowly drags his teeth down the length on his neck, biting into Neil’s sharp collarbones that peek out from his too-large tee. 

“Andrew,” Neil whines loudly. It’s thin and breathless and Andrew’s dick immediately jumps to attention at _that_. 

But that’s when Andrew’s senses overpower his desire—just for that moment, but it’s enough. They’re on a beach. It’s horribly impractical—especially considering Neil and him _just_ figured things out. 

Andrew pulls back—just slightly—but Neil is immediately perking up and reaching for him. 

“No, wait—what’s wrong?—Did I—“

“No,” Andrew huffs. “You’re great. We just—we probably shouldn’t do this—here.”

Neil seems to catch on then and a grin overtakes his face as he throws his head back and laughs. A small smile makes its way across Andrew’s face once again and he thinks _‘yeah, okay. Maybe some things are worth it.’_

"Hey, Josten," Andrew can't help but add, "You owe me a coffee." Andrew smooths his hands down Neil's chest. "Math major."

Neil gapes at him and then laughs. He shoves Andrew right back. "You cheated!"

"No, I didn't," Andrew says surely. He leans in closer and breathes his words right into Neil's lips. "I used my detective sleuthing skills."

*****

By the time all of them wake up the next day and make their way down to the kitchen, it’s early afternoon. They still call their meal brunch and break out the mimosas. All of the strangers from the previous night are long gone by now. Everyone left at the beach house Andrew at least knows by name. 

Neil’s been glued to his side since they woke up together. Andrew doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s nice. He leans closer to Neil whenever Neil curls up against his shoulder. Everyone at the dining table lets out a “fucking finally” or a saucy whistle while also chowing down their food. Neil hides his smile in Andrew’s shoulder as he munches on a piece of bacon. 

Nicky takes it upon himself to introduce himself to Neil and get to know _as much as he possibly can_ about the redhead since they barely met the night before. Neil is as chatty and quirky as ever. Aaron watches Neil warily from the other end of the table but doesn’t say anything. Andrew knows he’s likely going to approach him first rather than Neil. 

The rest of the day is pretty chill. They lay around and talk and eat and rest of their raging hangovers—some have it worse than others. Once the evening hits, Allison announces it’s time to open presents. Aaron and Andrew both try to sneak away, but Katelyn pulls Aaron back down onto the couch and Neil’s taken it upon himself to latch on to Andrew’s arm like a koala. 

So, the twins are forced to go through the gift-giving and opening process. Andrew’s always been rather awkward with receiving gifts. He honestly doesn’t like it, but he knows it makes them happy. He thanks everyone gruffly after opening their gift and ignores the way they perk up. Katelyn even got him a gift, which throws him for a momentary loop. 

However, Allison’s gift is the one that makes him completely flounder. It’s in a box, so he couldn’t tell what it was before he opened it. When he does open it up and pull away the tissue paper to reveal the present, his hand drops to the couch when he reads the label. Allison gleefully bounces on the couch across the room as she sees his reaction. 

“It’s peach liquor,” she says. She’s smirking. Of course, she’s fucking smirking. “Very expensive and very nice. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Later on, once everyone retires to bed, Neil curls up next to him in their room and whispers into his ear, “You sure you don’t like peaches?” 

“Positive,” Andrew hums back into the skin of Neil’s cheek, right over his scars. He snakes his hand down under the covers until it covers Neil’s firm ass and gives it a squeeze.

Neil squeals and rolls away from the touch, dissolving into a fit of giggles. Andrew follows him and rolls on top of Neil, pressing him against the mattress. Neil continues to laugh and Andrew swallows each of those laughs until the redhead is left gasping and withering underneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a month (sorry I got busy) but here is the final part! I literally busted out 3/4ths of this today. I hope yall liked it! I really had fun writing this and I've kinda been thinking about maybe adding a third part...lmk if that's something you'd be interested in/what kind of stuff you'd like to see :)
> 
> but thanks for reading and I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave a kudos, bookmark, comment, follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/emptyambrosia), etc.
> 
> -orth

**Author's Note:**

> Andrew: ditches Kevin to have hot steamy sex with a guy he's met twice  
> Also Andrew: ends up baking, painting nails, binge-watching shows, and being affectionate instead of having hot steamy sex
> 
> Hello, I hope you enjoyed! This is a mini fic I'm doing to provide the fluff that I need right now (plus I'm also trying to hit that 50k word count for NaNoWriMo soooo). If you're reading my other fic Come Back For Me you know it's kinda dark, especially right now, so read this and be happy :) Speaking of Come Back For Me, expect a new chapter this weekend!
> 
> Thanks for reading! & feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/emptyambrosia)
> 
> \- orth


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